The unexpectable Fred and Hermy!
by Gallie
Summary: It's been a terribly long time since this one has been updated, but it's a good read if you're willing to put up with it, and brings along giggles and squirmy feelings inside if you're a Fred/Hermione shipper.
1. Introduction

Introduction

And this is how it goes. ;

Since it was originally a role-play my friend and I are still doing, actually, it begins a little late. Only a few posts after it started, but - sometime I will get to write the beginning, as I didn't save it for the role-play... so please bear with me.

What has happened so far: There was a winter ball and Fred and Hermione decided to go with one another for the heck of it. (No feelings at that point.) Then partway through the dance, Hermione started acting odd, as if there were something wrong with her chest, and ran from the hall. She ran outside to a tree, obtained a potion bottle with yellow liquid in it, and drank it down. That's where you come in. :- 

The reason we started the story was because there are NOT enough Fred/Hermione shippers out there – and we want to start the thought of it, as they really would make a cute couple, and this story shows it excellently. The person who helped me write it, Devin, stays true to Fred's character fantastically and I only hope I stayed close enough to Hermione's. It's comical, (Dev's sense of humor is hilarious,) and dramatic, and eventful, and full of twists. As I am the Twist Queen, so you can imagine what kind of things happen.  
All the other characters are in it too, and some pretty interesting things happen.

You'll be glad you read it.

Rated PG-13 for mild British swear words and a teensy eensy speck of violence, (fight over a certain girl...) and a made-outy scene near the end of what we've written. :)

But other than that it's pretty clean.

Enjoy – and if you need to comment or compliment it, (I would really appreciate any con.crit,) my e-mail address is on my lookup, and my name is – of course – Gallie.

Read and review, if you please, and have fun reading this delighting masterpiece!


	2. Icy Escapade

Hermione reached inside the tree trunk delicately, and withdrew a very small yellow potion bottle that was concealed in the hollowed out area.  
Downing it in one gulp, she began to shudder violently, eyes closed tightly.

Fred came to a halt as soon as he had drawn close enough to see what she was doing. His eyebrows raised so high that they were nearly lost in his fiery red bangs. This was most definitely odd. He had been abandoned in the middle of the Halloween Ball so that Hermione could retreat into the freezing cold grounds and drink a potion, hidden in a tree? He blinked. Well, he couldn't exactly turn around now.  
"Er. Hermione?" he called tentatively.

Hermione put her back to the tree, sliding down it to the ground and pulling her knees into her chest.  
Why did THIS have to ruin her perfect night?  
She and Fred were having a wonderful conversation, and this curse had to intrude.  
Apparently not hearing Fred, her eyes still closed, she sat there in the snow, still hugging her knees.

Fred shuffled uncertainly. Part of him told him that he had best turn around and run away, part of him told him that now that he had gone thus far, he should go on. He walked closer, clasping and unclasping his hands in his pockets - that candy stick was still there, making his fingers sticky. He looked down at her, and said, a bit louder, "Hermione? Are - are you alright?" Perhaps if he pretended he didn't see her taking the potion, maybe if he said that he just saw her running outside, he could yet get out of this without embarrassment more than was due...

Hermione's eyes snapped open, and darted to Fred.  
"Oh . ." She whispered silently, the icy breeze whipping at her hair.  
Her face was some-what regretful, sad, disappointed, and ashamed.  
Now she would have to tell Fred.  
This was -- wonderful.

The lanky twin swallowed down his nervousness.  
"Er -- are you alright?" he repeated. "I mean, you ran away, and... it's awfully cold out here..."  
He blinked, knowing that he was sounding stupid. For once he admired Percy - he always seemed to know how to talk and not sound like a dolt (depending on the situation, of course) and never used the odd word "er".

Hermione sighed and hugged her knees tighter, opening her eyes and staring in front of her.  
"No, I'm not alright. I'm ridiculously upset that I had to ruin the fun we were having . . ." Her voice was extremely quiet, yet not a whisper now.

"Who says you ruined anything?" asked Fred, bristling a bit and grinning at her. "There's no reason we still can't have a good time." He looked about him, a serious expression on his face again. "If you do insist on staying out here, we might even have a snowball fight."  
He, Fred Weasley, never made any real effort to comfort someone or make someone feel better. He was completely out of his usual Though, he felt as if he'd been apologizing and making Hermione feel better more than he had done his whole life.

Hermione smiled slightly, rubbing her arm from the cold.  
Her long green robes were now askew, the part of the bottom hem was wet from running in the snow, her hair was now loose from it's elegant ponytail, and was hanging loosely in the slight curls down her back.  
"Snowball fight . . . that sounds fun . . ."  
Maybe Fred wouldn't ask about the potion bottle.

Fred snorted in laughter.  
"My specialty," he said, but then he noticed Hermione's state. "Though, it is a bit cold for my tastes. Snowball fights are always best left to the daylight." He shuffled again, and then offered his hand to help her to his feet. "Should we get back inside, then?"

Hermione paused, staring up at him, and then took his hand slowly and stood up next to him.  
"I'm so sorry, Fred . . ." She muttered truthfully, looking past him at the castle.

"Nothing to be sorry about," he said fervently, nodding as he did so. He drifted into silence, blinking at Hermione. He was surprised at how much her eyes sparkled when she was cold. He tipped his head slightly, struck by how pretty they could look. Suddenly he realized what she was talking about before - when she said she felt odd and wanted to run away in the library. He blinked, feeling himself going red, and then glanced up at the sky, and back to her again, completely at a loss for anything to do or say. Then he decided to say what he was thinking. "You... you really do look... pretty, Hermione."

Hermione looked up quickly, absolutely shocked.  
Her stomach felt as though something large was trying to get out, and fluttering at her insides in the process.  
She felt her cheeks get hot, and knew that they had gone pink.  
Smiling embarrassedly, she looked back down.  
What was this? What on earth was going on? Did Fred fancy her? Or did he just think she was pretty. Wait – she was PRETTY? To Fred????  
Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but quickly closed it.  
What would she say? Thank you? No, that was corny. You too? Even more so.  
There were utterly no words.

As silence fell, he realized it. Great. Excellent. Just absolutely bloody spiffing. He made a complete idiot out of himself. A complete, utter, unmistakable, IDIOT, and embarrassed both himself AND Hermione. 'Good going, Fred,' he scoffed at himself. He blushed so violently that he coughed and looked away, turning a mortified glance towards the castle.  
"Well!" he said in a slightly high-pitched tone. "We should get back now, eh? I'm freezing..."

Hermione seemed to realize the awkwardness, but decided to undermined the compliment.  
Her brown eyes flashed mischievously to the frozen glassy lake, and back.  
"I don't know . . ." She muttered quietly, a smile creeping its way upon her lips. "That lake looks very interesting . . ."

Fred looked slightly scandalized. He was about to point out that it was probably dangerous, but then he remembered that he didn't really care. He did anything dangerous just for kicks. And he was also about to warn her that if they got caught - that thought never formed to completion, because it made absolutely no impression of fear on the twin, why would it Hermione? Instead he said, "Er..." and walked up to the edge of the lake. He pressed his foot against the ice, wondering if it would support him. He grinned. "Hmm. Yes, interesting, I suppose."

Hermione followed, pulling her robes closer to her as well.  
A few light snowflakes fell softly onto her hair and she too put a put down on the lake.  
"Very smooth. Perhaps smooth enough for walking on?"  
Just then, some of the skeleton music from the ball drifted down the front steps, sounding far away.  
Hermione looked up.  
Had someone come out?  
Seeing no one, she abandoned the thought.

Fred snorted slightly in amusement. He couldn't exactly see the reason why he would want to walk out into the ice, but since Hermione seemed interested in doing so he wasn't just going to let her very well go by herself. He took a few careful steps out into the frozen lake, and cast an interested look over his shoulder.  
"Hermione, what are we doing this ff---" he stopped in his speech as his next step produced an ominous crack, and he blinked, watching spidery cracks spread out from beneath his shoe. "Ooookay," he said, and took a ginger step back. Perhaps the ice wasn't quite frozen enough yet for walking.

Hermione smiled at the look on Fred's face, but did not notice the ice.  
She used her heel to push herself forward and glided a few feet.  
"Come on, over here is even smoother!" She called out, cupping a cold hand to the side of her mouth.  
The snow was falling a little heavier than before.

Ron Weasley was standing by a tree, hunched so that they would not see him.  
His mouth was gaping open in utter awe.  
Shocked. Stunned. Flabbergasted.  
Utterly blown away.  
Did Fred and Hermione now fancy each other??  
What were they doing out here?  
It was indeed he who allowed the front doors to open, and the music from the hall drifted out because of him.

Another alien feeling was creeping up on him -- one he was completely unfamiliar with, even more than the ones he had felt for the past few days - nervousness.  
"Er - Hermione, don't... I don't think the ice is..." he trailed off and scuffed at the place that had cracked. It only proceeded to crack further. He edged to the side, slightly after Hermione, though he didn't dare go any further. He looked up towards her in alarm, seeing as she had already gone out further. True, she was not as heavy as he was, but still --- "Eh, Hermione, could you come back? I don't think the ice is going to hold!"

Hermione's eyes darted back to Fred, then slowly down to the cracks in the ice.  
"No, stop . . ." She whispered, all trace of happiness and carefree feelings gone.  
They were now intense, fearful, and serious.  
"Oh how could I be so STUPID." She said angrily, closing her eyes.  
"Glossy ice is thin ice . . . I read it in a book WEEKS before term started. . ."

"S'not stupid," Fred disagreed, though he swallowed hard. He wondered if summoning spells worked for humans. If the ice under Hermione cracked, could he just say 'Accio Hermione'? "I'm the stupid one, if anything... er... Just - ah - back up, no harm done..."  
He remained still, trying to believe his words. Hermione didn't break through yet, she just had to go a bit further and they would be quite safe.

Hermione frowned, and seemed to be thinking hard.  
"I think I'm alright for now . . ." She said quietly, but she was very far out.   
About 15 feet, to be exact.  
Much too far to simply take a step and get off the ice.  
"And you're not stupid. You're . . . -- wonderful . . ." Though the last two words were barely audible. She didn't have enough gut to say it aloud.

Fred blinked. He couldn't quite understand the last bit of that, and besides, it couldn't have been what he thought it was - he heard wrong, surely. He licked his dry lips and tried to edge forward a bit, trying to tread lightly. "Alright - come back - we'll try again when it's - er - colder," he said, trying to sound bright and cheerful, like he wasn't standing on a thin sheet of ice, under which was - literally - freezing cold water at who knows what depth...

Hermione looked over her shoulder.  
"No! Don't come out!" She said, as if the idea were ludicrous.  
"I don't want to put you in danger . . . here, let me try . . ."  
Very slowly and as lightly as possible, Hermione put her foot out on the ice and gingerly put some weight on it.  
Nothing moved. Nothing cracked.  
Sighing with relief, she ran a hand over her face, blinking.

Still with half a mind to go after her and drag her back, Fred obeyed and stayed where he was, though he held his breath with nerves. He cast a look over his shoulder, back towards the castle, as if he were hoping someone just happened to see them from the windows and come with help. It was just fifteen feet - and she got out easily enough - he shook his head and turned back to her. "Good," he said weakly. "Just - er - fifteen or so more to go!"

Hermione smiled weakly, and took another step.  
Courage strengthening because of the ice not breaking, she began to walk a little faster.  
Quicker, quicker, ten feet, eight, seven, six, until --  
CRACK.  
The ice beneath Hermione gave way at a particularly thin looking part, causing one of Hermione's legs to sink into the icy water below.  
Her eyes widened as she fell, and very quickly her entire body was underneath, not leaving one part of her visible in a frightening rush.

Fred was moving the second he heard the ice crack. He yelled something, he wasn't quite sure what, and had flung himself forward in an attempt to snatch her before she fell through. Yet the effect was disastrous - he seemed to have forgotten that ice was slippery, and so his feet were whipped out from under him and he was hurled flat on his face before he could blink an eye. When he tried to scramble back up, eyes locked on the place Hermione had been seconds before, he froze. The ice began to crack all around him from his rather hard impact, forming sinister white spider-web like patterns over the darker ice. He flinched. Good. Perfect. Great.

Hermione's whole body was plunged into icy bitterness as she went under.  
Immediately, she was at a loss for oxygen, and her head felt contracted in the blue dark waters.  
What was going on?  
Turning around in every direction, she fought to hold her breath in the waters, mind flying in fifty different directions.  
Her vision was going fuzzy, and suddenly she felt her right hand freeze, then whip with winds; it had come out of the water.  
Surprisingly enough, it felt colder than the icy water itself, nipping at her hand until she fell back under and dropped a few feet in the water from lack of oxygen.

Fred saw Hermione's hand bob up into the surface, and with a soft yelp he tried to scramble forward - bad idea, as the ice began to crack even more. He shuddered as he felt water lap against his fingers. If he went any further forward the ice between them would give way into the lake water, if he moved backwards, he would probably fall through too. If he stayed where he was he would sink eventually. He cursed under his breath and flung another look over his shoulder. He could call for help, but no one would hear him this far out into the grounds.

Ron had been indeed watching from the tree's, and was considering just watching Hermione be rescued by her boyfriend Fred, but when he saw that both of them needed help on the lake, he abandoned his watchful post, and ran all the way around the edge of the lake, coming as close as he could to Fred without stepping on the lake.  
"FRED! Whatd'you want me to do?" He asked loudly, eyes wide and breathing heavily, clutching a stitch in his side.

Under the water, Hermione was near suffocation. Her head was feeling even more and more contracted, and her vision was now completely blurry.  
To top it all, she was tired, and that did not help, as all her energy for swimming back to oxygen was gone.  
Slowly by slowly, she sank lower and lower.

Fred tried to edge away from the worst of the crackled ice, and nearly fell through with the surprise of hearing his brother's voice. He shot a look in his direction, catching a glimpse of his brother at the edge of the lake.  
"RON? What're you -- Get help!" he snapped, casting a quite petrified look towards Hermione. She couldn't last much longer. Oh, he only wished he remembered how to do that nifty bubble-head charm that Harry used last year! "HURRY!" he shot at Ron. He decided if something wasn't done in the next few seconds he would have no choice but to go in after her. What a bloody disaster.

Ron nodded and looked around.  
"Yea, but what??? I can't run up to the castle and back in time!!!"  
He called back, eyes still wide.

Fred tried to wobble to his feet. One foot actually fell through the ice. He yelped and scrambled away, cracking new ice as he went.  
"I have no bloody idea!" he roared. "Scream or something... Hermione!"  
Did she know how to swim? He wasn't sure - maybe if she could hear him she could tell which way the surface was.

Hermione was near giving up on trying to survive.  
Her head was nearly completely contracted, vision completely blurry, and lungs were dying for oxygen.  
Was Fred going to save her? Or let her drown?  
What was going on??  
Hermione felt the icy water brush past her as she fell down, down, into the deep dark water, sinking lower and lower . . .

Ron ran to the edge of the lake nearest the castle.  
"SOMEONE! PLEASE HELP! WE NEED SOME HELP DOWN HERE! MCGONAGALL, ANYONE!!!"  
  
Hermione hear Fred's yell and her heart jerked.  
He was still up there.  
But which direction was it?

Sitting - or rather, balancing - there, floundering on the ice, Fred finally realized that there was nothing for it. He saw the ice giving way all the more, and knew he either had to go after Hermione or just fall through anyway. So, he took a deep breath, scrambled forward to the hole where Hermione had been, and in a matter of seconds was immersed in the coldest water he ever felt. He was frozen into inaction, feeling as if he were incased in ice.

Hermione's heart was pounding, throbbing for oxygen, and she felt that since she had none, it was impossible to swim.  
Every time she tried, she would get tired and sink further, and since there was no air to cause her to float to the top, nothing but sinking was happening.  
"FRED!" She tried to scream back, but got a fresh mouthful of water and choked, also realizing he would never hear her.  
Then all of a sudden, her ears heard the splash of a body entering the water, and a light blast of water brushed past her.  
Fred had come in?  
  
Meanwhile, up near the castle, Ron was running as fast as he could towards the steps.  
Bursting into the hall, he looked around avidly for help. This was serious.

Cold. Cold. It was cold. He had to find Hermione or they were both going to drown in this freezing lake.  
He scrambled around a bit, trying to discern shapes through the murky dark water, yet he could see nothing, and his eyes were beginning to burn, surprisingly. His movements were sluggish and he tried to kick himself down, so that he sunk deeper and at a quicker pace. He began to become afraid that he would never find her, when one of his feet suddenly hit something solid.

Hermione's heart jumped with hope and fear when a foot hit her shoulder.  
Reaching up slowly, she made to grab it, but was too weak and realized that she didn't want to pull Fred down.  
How long had it been since oxygen? Eight minutes? Ten?  
All she knew was that Fred had come to save her. Her brain wouldn't fit anymore at the moment.  
Hoping against hope, she let herself fall limp from tiredness and weakness, waiting . . . .

Fred gasped as soon as he realized he had found her. Mistake, as freezing water filled his mouth and almost forced its way down to his lungs. He lunged, somersaulting and trying to grab for any part of the dark shape he presumed was Hermione that he could grab. In the end one hand closed around a handful of robes, the other around a wrist, and then he was stuck. Which way was up? And were was the gap in the ice that they had fallen through? It seemed he was surrounded by his billowing robes, tiny bubbles, murky water and shadows. He didn't even have time to feel relief for finding Hermione.

At that moment, Ron came sprinting down the lawn, closely followed by Professor McGonagall.  
"There, Professor!" He gasped, pointing a finger at the hole in the ice.  
Professor McGonagall went rigid and whipped out her wand, waving it at the spot.  
Ron stood, watching. He was very white in the face and his eyes were wide.  
Using a spell that did not need words, McGonagall began to lift Fred and Hermione out of the lake slowly.

Was it possible that the air was colder than the water? Fred had no idea, but he felt as if it had almost been warm in the lake compared to the biting cold atmosphere of Hogwarts' grounds. He had absolutely no idea how one moment he thought he and Hermione were going to drown, and the next they were on the solid ground again. Still clinging to Hermione's robes, he choked harshly on whatever water had managed to get into his lungs, and tried vainly to look around and see what was happening.

Hermione's head spun as they exited the water, and then went fifty different directions as she landed on the hard-packed snow next to the lake.  
Ron and Professor McGonagall came speeding up to them, Ron who was as white as the snow, and McGonagall looking worried, but harsh.  
Hermione coughed and put her hands on the ice, not caring at the moment if they were numb.  
Her coughing couldn't stop. There was so much water in her lungs, and she kept wanting to take deep breaths – yet every time she took a breath, the water would enter her lungs again.  
Her long brown hair felt like icicles against her forehead, and was hanging limply down as her head was faced down, coughing uncontrollably

Ron looked highly concerned for Hermione as he kneeled down beside her, McGonagall was using her wand to stir something in two goblets that had appeared along with a tiny table, just high enough for her to reach down and set them on it.  
They were steaming.  
"Drink this, the both of you." She said harshly, yet allowed some time for Ron and maybe Fred to care for Hermione.

Fred, who was not nearly so bad off as Hermione, stopped his coughing relatively quickly, though his body was shaking so badly he could barely control his movements. As soon as he had composed himself even minorly he was next to Hermione, a hand on her shoulder, looking with alarm upon first her, then Ron, then McGonagall, then Hermione again, his mind slowly working around this. Ron went for help. McGonagall came. He blinked at the professor, and then put his full attention on Hermione.  
"Her - Hermione?" he gasped, feeling uncharacteristically disoriented. "Are you -- is she -- wh...?"

"She'll live." Mcgonagall said tartly as Ron tried to peer under Hermione's face.  
"She might have gotten a mild case of Arethnomia, but I doubt it's serious. . ."

Fred looked back up at McGonagall. Relieved that she would not die, though unsure what Areth-- thingy - was, he began to breathe at a more regular rate. He stole a look at Ron, and he remembered what happened at their last parting. "Er - Ron?" he tried through chattering teeth. "Th-thanks, mate..."

Ron looked up and despite the fact that his best friend was in trouble, a brotherly grin cracked across his lips.  
"Yeah, alright." He muttered, then got on his knees and looked back at Hermione.  
"Reckon we should get Hermione up to the castle? It's bloody freezing out here . . ."

Professor Mcgonagall tapped her foot impatiently.  
"I would highly advise you drink these goblets, you and Miss Granger!" She said tartly to Fred, looking over at him through her square spectacles.

Fred smiled weakly at Ron, but jumped at the sound of McGonagall's voice. He had almost completely forgotten her presence. He knew that he would be in massive trouble later, but he was glad that she was not yelling quite yet. He looked at the goblets hesitatingly, though he was in no position to argue. With a nervous look at the professor he took one in his hand and looked at Hermione, edging closer. "Will - do you think she can drink, Professor?

"I doubt if she can . . . if she can't, then that's not a good sign, but we'll see." Walking over briskly, Professor Mcgonagall took the goblet off the table, leaving the one in Fred's hand for him, and leaned closer to Hermione.  
"Miss Granger?" She said, trying to pull back some of the brown hair.  
Hermione's coughs faded out, but still occasionally entered as she replied.  
"Yes –"her eyes widened. "Professor! I-I, where, what happened?"

"You explain, Mr.Weasley." Professor Mcgonagall said tartly, standing up and tending to the small table.  
Ron was still goggling at Hermione.

Fred watched Hermione with fearful eyes, forgetting to drink his own potion. He couldn't believe he had let this happen. Score one for old Fred - what was he doing, letting her go out on the ice? And FOLLOWING her? Did he have his head on backwards? He was never going to hear the end of this. He continued to silently berate himself as he mutely watched Hermione until he remembered to drink the stuff.

He looked quickly up at McGonagall. "M-me, Professor?"

"Oh, nevermind." Mcgonagall replied curtly. "You fell through the ice, Ronald came and got me, Mr. Weasley here tried to save you –"  
"Fred tried to, SAVE me?" Hermione asked silently, hair still dripping now and then.  
She then shivered and looked at Fred.  
"Really?"

Fred shifted nervously, looked at Hermione quickly and then back down at his cup.  
"Er. Well. I went after you... yeah..." he shrugged. He didn't feel like much of a hero. He had managed to find her, but then what did he do? "But if it weren't for Ron and... and Professor McGonagall..." he trailed off, shivering and taking a long gulp of the potion, feeling steadily warmer as he did so.

Hermione smiled, and – quite abruptly, leaned her head on Fred's shoulder gratefully.  
If it hadn't been for him, she would probably be dead.  
Ron, on the other hand was looking quite indignant.  
It had been HIM who had saved her! HE who went to get Mcgonagall!  
If it hadn't have been for HIM, Hermione AND Fred would've both gone down to Davy Jones's locker!  
Professor Mcgonagall conjured three cloaks out of midair and laid one over Hermione's back, then handed one to Fred and tossed one to Ron.  
Then again, thought Ron as he caught the cloak, watching his best friend.  
It was kind of cute, Fred and Hermione, really. . .

Very startled, Fred looked down at Hermione, wondering why she behaved thus. If it weren't for him, Hermione could have been walking back to the castle by now, perhaps returning to the ball. But no, he had to be nosy and follow her out...  
He blinked. Well. At least everything ended well... or at least without any deaths. He glanced at Ron as he took the cloak, hoping not to see him seething with anger, and tried to decide whether to try to stand up and dislodge Hermione's head from his shoulder or let her get up first.

Ron cleared his throat, still smiling in a silly way at Fred.  
"Come on, you two love-birds, we'd better get up to the castle. It's -" He said something that made Mcgonagall give him a glare. "Alright, alright. -- freezing out here."  
Hermione looked up at the word love and blushed furiously.  
Downing the goblet, she stood up hastily and handed it back to Mcgonagall.  
"Thank you very much, Professor." She said, immediately feeling warmth spread to the tips of her toes that matched how hot her face was getting at Ron's comment.

Fred shot Ron a look. He wasn't sure whether it was the potion or his own embarrassment making him warm. Yet at least now he didn't feel like chucking Ron into the lake, though perhaps for that comment he could be kicked in the pants once or twice. Either way, he copied Hermione, finishing the last of McGonagall's concoction and handing the goblet off to her.  
"Yeah, thanks," he said with a grin upon getting to his feet. He percieved it a miracle that they didn't get into any trouble - or at least lost some housepoints. "Yes, we should be getting back, shouldn't we? Err - thanks for your help, Professor."

Professor Mcgonagall blinked beadily at Fred, then the goblets vanished and she pulled her cloak over her shoulders more, shielding herself from the snow that was falling heavily now.  
"I daresay we shall get inside. But may I ask what on earth YOU were doing out here Mr. Weasley? I know perfectly well why Miss Granger was, but how about you?"  
She began to walk up to the castle, and encouraged them to do the same.  
Ron offhandedly pretended to not care, but he himself was dying to know why Hermione had come out in the first place.

Fred blinked after her, glanced nervously at Hermione and Ron, and then began to follow.  
"Er - well - I didn't know why she left the ball so suddenly," he said, walking almost sideways so that he could look at Hermione too. He still wasn't sure why she left him so abruptly -- and he would still like to know. "I thought I must have done something wrong or - something. So - I followed y- her."

Professor Mcgonagall continued to trudge through the snow.  
"It was nothing you did . . ." Hermione muttered, keeping her cloak closed to shield the snow that continued to fall into her soaking wet hair.  
"No, it wasn't. It was a completely different reason." Mcgonagall said curtly as she climbed the stone steps towards the front doors, also giving Hermione a different uneasy look.  
Hermione shook her head slowly and went inside.  
"Which – I am not at liberty to say." The Professor continued, holding out her hand for Ron and Fred to enter.  
Ron gave a small groan.

Fred sighed deeply, quite in agreement with Ron. He stumped in after Hermione, feeling frustrated. Didn't he have a right to know what was going on? He was not accustomed to being walked out on - not that he blamed Hermione for ditching him, but if there was a reason, he would like to know it. Once inside he shook his head sharply to dislodge snowflakes that had begun to stick to his damp red hair, and realized that he rather hated winter. Summer was most certainly much better for swimming.  
"Well," he said with a small smile. "This certainly was fun..."

Hermione smiled at Fred's comment shyly and Ron cocked his eyebrow.  
"Now, I want you two. . ." Professor Mcgonagall pointed at Ron and Hermione.  
"To go up to your dormitories, and get warm, fed, everything else that needs tended to. You –" She pointed at Fred. "I need to speak with you."  
Hermione cast Mcgonagall a slightly alarmed look, but Mcgonagall waved it aside and looked back to Fred. "Alright Mr. Weasley?"

Fred gaped at professor McGonagall, at once suspecting that he didn't get off scott-free after all. He shuffled uncomfortably, and nodded. It wasn't as if he wasn't use to recieving punishments by now - just it didn't seem fair at this time, was all. When he got a lecture, he'd like to have earned it, thank you very much.  
"Yeah, alright," he replied, watching Hermione and Ron out of the corner of his eye.

Hermione still looked very skeptical, but not about punishment . . . it seemed almost worried that Mcgonagall might let something slip.  
Slowly, she nudged Ron's arm, and he too went down the hall.  
Professor Mcgonagall watched them for a few moments, then turned to Fred.  
"I trust you would like to know what Miss Granger was doing outside the hall?" She asked tartly.

Fred's eyebrows lifted in minor surprise. He tilted his head at her, as if wondering whether there was a catch to answering. Yet McGonagall's face was impossible to read correctly. She always somehow managed to seem stern and reproachful, even when she smiled...  
"Er, yeah, that'd be nice actually," he said reluctantly, but he had caught the look on Hermione's face before she left. "Though if she really doesn't want me to know..."

"That's because I am not at liberty to tell you." Mcgonagall replied with a small sigh, still looking over her square spectacles.  
"Though I must say, Miss Granger will be quite worried indeed if I tell you. So I won't. But I can tell you this . . . when Miss Granger is ready, I doubt you'll get an explanation from her. Terribly sad, really, it is . . ." Her eyes were full of – was it pity for Hermione?  
"Anyways . . .you may ask her, and if she chooses to, she will tell you. Excuse me now, I must go talk to the Headmaster on an issue. . ." And quite suddenly, Professor Mcgonagall turned, and walked in the opposite direction of the Gryffindor Common Room, where Hermione and Ron had gone.  
The music from the ball drifted into the hall, and she disappeared through the door.

... Fred watched after her with not a little surprise as she walked away. Her words, far from explaining anything, only made the situation more complicated in the Weasley boy's eyes. Confused, and a bit worried, he shook his head and turned in the direction opposite of McGonagall's route, walking after Ron and Hermione. Well, at least he never had to complain about boredom in Hogwarts. The place sure did a good job of keeping him on his toes.


	3. One Secret Revealed

Lee Jordan was sitting in the common room, reading up on the essence of murtlap for the scratches on his hand. Yes, another detention from Umbridge for talking back in class had made his cuts open up once more.  
Flipping the page of the book, Lee scratched the side of his dread-locked head, and fixed his brown eyes on a picture in the book.

"I told you Ron, for the fiftieth time this morning. You may or may not find out in TIME."  
The annoyed voice of Hermione Granger drifted down the hallway as Ron, Harry, and Hermione made their way you breakfast in the great hall.  
"Hermione, I am dying to know what happened down there, as far as I know, you rushed out while halfway through your date with Fred at the Halloween ball, and ran down the lawn in the snow to drink a potion bottle hidden in a tree. Is this true? At least tell me that."  
"Well, it is true."  
"Why did you do it?"  
"RON!"  
"Fine, fine . . ."  
Ron muttered under his breath as Hermione sat down promptly, and propped a book on werewolves against the milk jug.

Hermione had gotten most of her old-self back with the coming of a new day, but was still constantly thinking about the previous night, and how eventful it had been.  
'Not only eventful, but wonderful . . .' The brown haired girl thought as she pretended to read the book.  
Ron seemed to have noticed, for he seized the book and stared at it.  
"You must read really well if you can read upside-down." He said blankly.  
Hermione swiped the book back and glared at Ron.  
"There is something strange, going on . . ." Ron muttered, cocking his eyebrow at Hermione, who had paused mid-spoonful of porridge to stare into space.  
"Hermione, d'you fancy Fred?"  
Hermione's eyes darted to Ron. "No."  
"Does he fancy you?"  
"I don't know. Why?"  
"I just thought it'd be cute, you and him, you know . . ."  
Hermione seemed to relax, but was still staring at Ron blankly.  
"Well I really have no idea whether he fancies me or not, and quite frankly, he is just a good friend."  
Ron snorted and Harry grinned.  
"It's true! We just went to the ball together, because . . ."  
"He didn't go with Angelina." Ron interrupted promptly as Harry spread more jam on his toast and took a bite, looking at both Ron and Hermione.  
"Yes, well, that's because George went with her . . ."  
Still grinning, Ron went back to his toast as well. "Sure Hermione . . ."

Fred and George were talking together in low tones as they walked into the common room, leaving the boys' dormitories.  
"Come ON, Fred, can't you just tell me already?"  
"No."  
"Really -- just at the beginning of the Ball Hermione dashes off, you disappear, and next time I see you you're soaking wet and won't explain a thing!"  
"So?"  
"So?! I'm your brother! I wanna know what happened."  
"Well, I'm not going to tell you, so you're just going to have to bug off and stop pestering me."  
Fred grinned at his very flummoxed brother. They were on their way to the Great Hall of breakfast. All night and most of the morning George had been pestering him over the events of last night -- Fred was, however, less than vague in his responses. He spotted Lee Jordan a short distance away, immersed in a book. Intrigued, he walked over, glad to find a reason to get George off his back.  
"'Lo, Lee," he said, looking at him curiously, and then in a more suspicious tone, "What have you got there? Not studying, are you?"

Lee looked up.  
"If you call reading on how to get these bloody cuts on my hand healed studying, yes." He said darkly, then grinned.  
"George, what's wrong, mate? You could fry an egg on your face . . ."

George opened his mouth, the look on his face obvious that he was going to complain about his brother, and Fred interrupted him, elbowing past his twin to squint at the book.  
"Essence of whatsit?" he blinked at the pages. "Wow, mate, I'd just take a trip to the hospital wing if I were you. Looks too complicated to me..."  
The book, in fact, looked like something that Hermione would be interested in. He smirked. In fact, he wouldn't have been even remotely surprised if it had been she who loaned it to him. Thinking of Hermione, he asked, "Coming to breakfast?"

Lee stood up and stretched.  
"Maybe I'll take a break and eat . . . say Fred, the whole school's in a whisper about Hermione and you now. Rumors, whispers, you know." He scratched the back of his neck. "Some say that you and Hermione are together now, some say that the potion bottle was because she has an incurable disease," He snorted. "Some even say that she drank the potion because she was feeling too in love with you. What's the deal? I thought it was suppose to be a secret. Well, naturally, the whole school knows . . ."

"So, are you going to hang out with me and Harry today? Or do you have plans with Fred . . ." Ron muttered to Hermione, causing Harry to snort into his pumpkin juice and spill some on the table.  
Hermione gave him a cold look.  
"For your information, Ron, I am going to be spending the day with myself if you continue this interrogating."  
Ron fell silent as Harry finished off his toast.  
"So, first class is what now?"  
"Potions." Ron replied gloomily, still staring at Hermione, who was spooning porridge into her mouth calmly and reading the book.

Fred winced painfully. Oh great. First he had to contend with George, now he had the whole school to look forward to being badgered by. Usually he enjoyed the attention, so long as he got it by causing some sort of trouble or another with George. Lee's information was nothing that he hadn't heard already - George had been shoving the stuff at him since he opened his eyes that morning.  
"Well, it's a whole load of rubbish," he said gruffly with a pointed look at George and Lee. He began to lead the way to the portrait hole. "And nobody else's bloody business."  
"Hmm. Let's see, seeing as we're your friends and / or TWIN BROTHERs," came George's comeback. "I'd say it is our business."  
Fred didn't answer. He didn't feel like talking about the last night - he was still rather confused about the whole ordeal. If he had to talk to anyone about it, he would rather talk to Hermione, and not nosy teenagers - even if that did include Lee and his twin.

"Oh goody." Harry replied glumly. "Another torturing hour. And that starts at what time?"  
"9 o'clock is the first class, and it's 8:20 now . . ." Ron muttered, eyes glued on Hermione.  
"Okay then." Harry rubbed his hands together. "We'll finish eating, and then go?"  
"What made you so cheery?" Ron suddenly asked, turning to Harry with a frown.  
"Trying to brighten the mood from your dull spirits."  
Hermione was still eating porridge, and reading the book, brown eyes fixed on it insolently.

Fred tramped into the Great Hall, still being tailed by his twin. He was definitely looking forward to breakfast, barely having eaten anything the night before. He saw that the Hall was reduced to its normal decorum, all sign of Halloween gone, from the pumpkins to the smallest piece of candy. He walked over to the Gryffindor table. He caught sight of Hermione, Ron and Harry, and made a B-line for their direction. Well, it was where he and George normally sat anyway - the stares he was receiving were most definitely uncalled for.  
"Hullo," he said with a grin, dropping down beside them.

At the sound of Fred's voice, Hermione immediately looked up, and upon seeing him, moved aside a book, and made room for him to sit in between her and Ron. This was probably for the best of things, as Ron was still glowering after her.  
"Oh fine, make room for him beside you and not your best friend . . ." He said angrily, but keeping his voice quiet as Harry finished off his juice and waved slightly to the twins.  
"Notice how she only makes room for Fred, and not George . . ." Ron muttered under his breath into Harry's ear and causing him to grimace.

Knowing that Ron would probably be making some sort of comment or another, Fred chose to ignore him as he walked up. "Thanks," he said, and as he went to sit down he accidentally toppled Ron backwards off of the bench. He blinked at him. "Ah, sorry, mate." He grinned brightly. George cocked an eyebrow at Fred, and then wandered off to sit near Angelina, and judging by the volume of her voice they were either discussing Quidditch or the ball last night.  
"Alright, Hermione?" he asked, eyeing her as he reached for some toast.

Hermione nodded and turned the page in her book, taking a hasty swig of pumpkin juice at the same time.  
"Alright after last night," She threw him a grin and then turned back to her book. "Sure thing."  
Ron was muttering under his breath angrily as he got up and brushed himself off.  
"No problem." He spat at Fred, words dripping with sarcasm as he moved over to Harry's left side. Harry looked to his right at Fred, and then shrugged, turning back to Ron, where they began to talk.  
"I can't decide whether dragon breeding was outlawed in 1709 because of laws, or because of the Ministry of Magic's decision. . ." Hermione continued in a very Hermione-ish way . . . though there was still something that seemed, off. Or, different about her tone. Perhaps it was slightly more high-pitched, or perhaps it was just the morning that was making her eyes look very tired.

Fred blinked in a very Fred-ishly confused way, being posed with such a statement that was really a question that was really just Hermione musing. He seemed to remember Binns mentioning something about this when he was in fifth year, but really, when had he ever paid attention to Binns?  
"Er..." he glanced suspiciously at Ron and Harry as they began to talk. But he faced Hermione again and squared his shoulders, his mind finally made up to ask her the question that had been posed to him multiple times that day. "Say, Hermione, could you tell me what happened last night? I mean -- why did you go out there in the first place?"

Hermione set down her pumpkin juice flask with slightly wide eyes.  
"Well . . ." She began as Ron's ear twitched from beside Harry, and they both stopped talking.  
Upon spotting them, Hermione rolled her eyes and stood up, cramming the book into her bag. "I might if we can get away from them . . ." Gesturing to Ron and Harry, who were watching her out of the corners of their eyes, she looked back at Fred.  
"Somewhere else then?"

Fred nodded enthusiastically, getting to his feet. "Sure thing." He was willing to climb to the very highest tower if only to get some answers. He looked at the younger males with a mock-scathing expression. "What?" he asked. "Did you just swallow a fly in your pumpkin juice or something, Ron?" He shook his head and turned to Hermione, asking, "Where to?"

Hermione began to walk down the hall, some people gaping after her, some whispering, some staring – all manner of rude gestures and impolite things flitting about.  
"Oh I don't know. Anyway to get away from Mr. Jealous Killjoy . . ." She replied briskly, brown hair limp and bouncing behind her.

The twin grinned, walking after her. He was used to the tiffs forming between Ron and Hermione, though he had to admire miss Granger's skills for being able to pinpoint his brother exactly. He felt his mood brightening even as he walked down the Hall, surrounded by gossiping students.  
"Right, then," he replied, elbowing one of the little nosy miscreants by "accident" and sending them tumbling into another.

Hermione strode out into the hall directly outside the morning breakfast air and towards the front steps.  
It was still snowing softly, billowing -- yet light. A few students were fighting their way through the blizzard in order to speak to either Hagrid or Professor Sprout about something that they might squeeze in before class at nine o'clock.  
There was a worried glint in Hermione's panicky eyes, yet her face was calm as she walked down the warm and inviting hall towards the staircases, and paused right beside a suit of armor entitled, 'Sir Robert Akin'.  
Still holding one large book in between her arms over her chest, and book bag over her shoulder in yet another Hermione-ish way, the glossy brown eyed girl paused and stared past Fred uncomfortably. "Well what exactly did you want to know . . ."

Fred bit his lip a bit, and shifted his weight from one foot to the other so that he leaned into her line of vision again. "Well --" he began. "I would like to know... why did you leave last night? I mean, I'm not put off or anything, it's just - well, I was just worried, you know? I mean, it's not every day that you go running off into the snow - I mean, except for that time in the library, but, well, yeah."  
He was rambling. He blinked at her, hoping she had caught at least some of what he had said.

Hermione took a deep breath, and blew it out of her mouth slowly, wincing a bit.  
"I really don't want anyone to know this . . . but since I trust you, I guess I will tell you. . . ." She paused for a brief moment, as if contemplating actually telling him, but ignored the thought and continued, still staring past him and avoiding his eyes.  
"Last year, I was approached in the library by Draco Malfoy. He told me the usual, mudblood . . . bushy hair . . . all of that rubbish . . . and then, when the ferret incident happened, I didn't realize just how angry he was about me saying how twitchy he was. I did make a comment about it. Well anyways, in the hallway one day, while I was reading about Herbs, he hexed me with a spell."  
There was a pause, as she bit her bottom lip and threw a quick glance at Fred.

Fred oggled at her. He had half a mind to turn around and go look for Draco and give him a good lesson in muggle-dueling, but he merely satisfied himself by twitching a little.  
"He - he HEXED you?" he snarled.

Hermione closed her eyes briefly, then opened them and stared past Fred once more.  
"Well, what do you expect from a slime-ball like him? Though, I didn't realize how powerful the spell was, until one night, when I had difficulty breathing. Little did I know, I still don't know to this day where Malfoy learned it, probably his father or something -- but it's a permanent curse. One that forces me to take a potion every single night . . . or stop breathing."  
There was another pause as a group of chattering girls passed by, whispering and pointing to the both of them. Hermione was biting her lip again and now looking back at Fred.

Fred didn't reply all at once, instead stood quietly as he absorbed this information - a very odd thing indeed, for it was rare for one of the Weasley twins to go for any length of time without making some sort of movement or comment. Then, slowly, he began to get angry. He shot a hasty, venomous look about him.  
"And - did Dumbledore know?" he hissed. "They let the - the..." he couldn't think of a strong enough word to describe Malfoy. "They LET him get away with this?"

Hermione gave a some-what nervous wince.  
"Well, they don't really know . . . see, up until now, Professor Mcgonagall and me are the only ones who know. I've never told anyone else." She said quietly, now looking straight at him.

For a moment Fred was struck by the fact that he had been taken into such confidence. Yet this only made him angrier at Draco - what gave him the right to attack Hermione? Even if she insulted him until he began to have the self-esteem of a squished slug, nothing gave him the right to put such a spell on her!  
"And... you just let him get away with it?" he demanded. "Hermione, what if he tries it again? I mean, the git is so stupid, maybe he'll just - try to finish the job off!"  
He was genuinely worried. He cast a look about him again, as if hoping that the slimy son of a snake would dare show his face nearby.

Hermione swallowed and cast a nervous look around as well, that was almost sheepish.  
"I know, I know . . . but I really don't think Malfoy is that stupid . . to try and, well, kill me, would get him expelled. And his father wouldn't like that, so I don't think it'll get any more serious." She spoke in such a tone, that you would think it was alright for her – even if she did have a curse that prevented her from breathing every nigh if she didn't take it. It almost seemed . . . like she was just dealing with it.

Fred opened his mouth to say something, paused, reconsidered his words, and then tried again.  
"Well, still, you just can't let him get away with it," he was adamant to remain very angry with Draco, even if his excuses to chuck him off the side of a cliff were becoming weak. "I mean - knowing some kind of curse like that - couldn't he get into trouble with the Ministry? He could- even be locked up in Azkaban!"  
Oh, the visual was wonderful.

Hermione bit her lip and adjusted her bag on her shoulder.  
"There are . . certain reasons, and complications Fred. I just told you what I did, because I trust you. . ." She softly tried to nudge his arm with a weak smile, as if the conversation drained her of energy.  
"Now you need to get to class, and so do I . . ." The girl continued, brown eyes spotting Ron and Harry not far away, walking towards them.

Fred gazed mournfully at her, being denied - well, it was her revenge he was worried about, so he realized that he really had no claim to Draco's life after all. He glanced in the direction of Ron and Harry, and realized that George probably wouldn't be far behind.  
"Yeah," he said glumly. "I suppose so. I'm sorry - I didn't really have any idea 'bout any of this. Really."  
He smiled. He felt bad, now, nagging her about why she ran off during the ball. Sure, he didn't nag as much as George or Ron, but he still did nag. Good heavens, he was getting sentimental! He wondered if he was going crazy.

"Thank you. . ." Hermione gave a genuinely warm smile, and went forth to meet Ron and Harry, but halted and turned on her heel, going back towards Fred, and then leaning in slightly, "Oh and Fred," She said softly, with the corners of her mouth breaking into a weak grin. "Please don't tell anyone else, alright?"

"'Couse," Fred replied, a grin finally breaking out on his features. It made him look a great deal more Fred-ish. "Your secret is safe with me, even if I can't kill him."  
Oh, George was definitely going to appreciate this. He had an idea that he was going to have two very annoyed brothers on his hands.

Hermione bit her bottom lip for a brief moment, though not in worry now – it was in a contemplating state, as if she were debating something inside her head.  
Then, quite briefly and softly, she gave Fred a quick hug, and swept away from him smiling, going back to Harry, and Ron, who's jaw had dropped so low, you would've thought he had swallowed a bowling ball.

Fred's eyebrows momentarily lifted in surprise, but before he could react Hermione was already moving away. He blinked, and grinned, egged on by the look on his brother's face. He glanced over Harry's shoulder and was unsurprised to see George striding up the hall.  
"I'll see you later, then," he said.

Hermione turned back at his voice and waved slightly with a grin, then was taken away by Harry, and a glaring daggers Ron.  
"What was all that about??" Ron asked loudly as they walked towards the dungeons.  
"Just giving Fred your insights on a book, perhaps? Or maybe TELLING HIM ABOUT LAST NIGHT."  
Hermione scowled. "Either way, it's really none of your business, Ron."

Fred was treated similarly, being dragged in the opposite direction by his twin.  
"Well? What happened?" George demanded. "Will you tell me what happened NOW?"  
Annoyed, he yanked his arm out of George's grasp.  
"Gerroff," he exclaimed. "And, no."  
"Why?"  
"Because I don't feel like it."  
"Come ON," grumbled George. "When's the last time you kept something from me, eh? We're not supposed to do that - we're twins!"  
"Thanks for reminding me," Fred said dryly. "Lay off, George. I promised I wouldn't tell you."  
The mirror image of himself snorted. "Isn't that noble of you."

Hermione, who was now walking down the hall of the dungeons, was also being annoyed.  
Ron was nearly steaming at the ears. "What the HELL could you possibly be keeping from your BEST FRIENDS, and tell FRED, who ISN'T your best friend?!?!?"  
"None of your business." Hermione said, nettled.  
Harry was simply keeping quiet. This was not his conversation, for if Hermione didn't want to tell them, she didn't have to.  
"Hermione, you are so rude. I can't believe you, this is ridiculous . . ." Ron muttered under his breath angrily as they made their way into the Potions classroom and set their bags on a table.

"She made you promise not to tell ME? Your own TWIN?"  
"Not just you!" Fred replied, exasperated. Why was George getting so riled about this? "Will you get off of it? It's none of your bloody business!"  
"Fine," George snarled, pushing past him. "Choose her over me, then, I don't mind."  
Fred gaped after him. "What are you TALKING about?"  
But now George was officially not speaking to him. It took several tries for Fred to finally realize this, and so both were in equally sullen moods as they trudged into the History of Magic classroom - Fred wished it was something else, because he just couldn't fall asleep NOW while his mind was so cluttered.


	4. Standoff

The next week, around Thursday afternoon, when it was still snowing heavily and the lake was frozen more than ever, a very loud yelp erupted through the calm Common Room air.  
"You WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?"   
Ron Weasley, was clutching a letter in his hand, face red, and standing over a squashy armchair by the fire, in which Hermione was sitting calmly, reading -- what else -- . . . -- a book.  
"DON'T tell me that this is true, Hermione . . ."  
Hermione's cold eyes darted up to him, and back down to her book.  
"What if it is."  
Another yelp.  
"WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOU DO THIS?!?!?!?"  
The brown haired girl stood up and bookmarked her book with the roll of the eyes.  
"Hmmm, that's a hard one."  
Ron mouthed soundlessly, then pointed at the letter in disbelief. "This . . is because of – ME? The way I'VE been acting???"  
"Maybe." Came the casual reply, as Hermione shifted a few papers on the table in the corner Harry was sitting at.

Fred trumped into the common room, only glancing once at George and Dean Thomas, who were conversing with each other in the corner. George was still not talking to him - it felt very odd. He wasn't used to his twin being mad at him. Suddenly attracted by the yelling, he looked in Hermione and Ron's direction. Interested, he walked over until he stood behind Hermione's armchair. He cocked an eyebrow at Ron.  
"Really, mate," he said sardonically. "You needn't yell, I'm sure she can hear you, as well as the whole rest of the school..."

Ron threw a sarcastic and venomous look at Fred, then turned back to Hermione.  
"I don't believe this. And just because I annoyed you a little, and made a few comments – you go and basically call off our friendship?"  
Hermione sputtered indignantly, eyes flashing.  
"A FEW comments?? Try annoying me, bugging me, teasing me, taunting me,... ANYTHING to get the information your NOSY ears want to hear!!!! Oh!" She threw her hands up in the air with a mirthless snort.  
"Let's talk about NOSY. You find something that has my name on it, in red ink, HERMIONE GRANGER, and you go and open it! NOW TELL ME THAT IS NOT RUDE!"

Fred gaped at Ron, lost for words. Even he was shocked by what Hermione claimed of Ron's behavior, and he had lived with the little creature since he was born. Not exactly sure what to do, he stood where he was, looking from one to another, knowing that he was involved - even CAUSING this - and he could probably help one way or another. Or maybe just slug Ron if he got too brash.

Ron chose to ignore this, and covered by waving the letter in her face.  
"Well, it was a good thing I read this, so I could persuade you NOT to!!!"  
Hermione's eyes narrowed. "The decision has been made. If you can't accept it, then go stick your head in Myrtle's toilet. Because I don't give a," She said something that was very un-Hermioneish. Usually it was Ron who swore.  
"It's not like I'm leaving the SCHOOL or anything Ron!!"  
"IT'S CLOSE ENOUGH!" Ron bellowed in return.

His attention was most definitely peaked, both by Hermione's uncharacteristic - and quite tasteful - swear and the odd hints being flung around the room. He raised his eyebrows, gazing at Hermione with a bit of anxiousness.  
"What...?" he started tentatively. "What's going on?"

Ron cut off Hermione, who was about to speak. "She is switching to sixth year." He stated, gritting his jaw.  
Hermione flushed angrily and went back to shuffling papers on the table, knocking many to the floor in the process.

Fred's eyes widened slightly, rather surprised. Yet somehow or another he did not feel the same raging fury that Ron did. He remained in a musing silence as he watched Hermione fussing over her papers, but he was too preoccupied with the thought of her being in his year to think of helping her. Instead he cracked a small grin.  
"Really?" he asked, his tone impressed. "Wow, Hermione. Congratulations."

Hermione looked up from her paper shuffling to flash Fred a weak smile, but Ron rolled his eyes.  
"Hermione, we are going to have different schedules, so we'll only see each other at lunchtime, you will be loaded up with more homework than you can handle, and then Harry and I will never see you!" He stated with a gritted jaw.  
"For the last TIME Ron, the choice is already made, it was a decision to get away from your incessant nagging, I think I can handle it fine, thank you very much, and I would appreciate it if you stopped HOUNDING me!!!"  
Ron gave up with an exasperated groan, and turned angrily instead to round on Fred.  
"So I suppose you and her will be 'real chummy, won't you? Now that you're both in the same year."

Fred - whose temper had already been frayed lately due to George's silent treatment - rounded on Ron with a snarl. He wasn't accustomed to being truly angry at his brother, but ever since the day at Hogsmeade he had been truly unbearable.  
"Don't you look to vent your temper on ME," he snapped. "You made your own bed Ron, now SLEEP in it! If you treated Hermione half-decent she wouldn't BE switching now, would she?"

Ron's eyes narrowed.  
"Yes, but I suppose my older brother will most definitely be there to finish up what I messed up, eh? If –I– didn't treat her half decent, YOU will, hmm?"  
Hermione stopped shuffling papers and was watching Ron with an angry yet worried expression.

The Weasley twin easily matched his brother's narrow-eyed look, though years more practice made him much better at it. He glanced at Hermione before replying.  
"Yes, I will," Fred he said in a low tone. "And why not, eh? Just because you choose to treat your friends like traitors because their whole world does not revolve around YOU doesn't mean that I have to!"

Ron gave a sarcastic laugh, that didn't sound like a laugh at all. More like a malicious snicker.  
"So, like I said before. There IS some fancying going on around here . . ."  
And it happened in a flash of a second.  
As soon as Ron made the comment, Hermione had slapped Ron across the cheek with a sharp and resounding crack, which echoed throughout the common room and left a ringing in some people's ears.  
Lee Jordan stopped talking and looked up, trying to find the whip that had made the sound.  
The whole common room was silent.  
It was a standoff to rival any other that Ron and Hermione had ever had.  
Ron was standing quite still, with his hand over his cheek where Hermione had smacked it, and an indescribable look of shock on his face. Eyes wide, his cheek was smarting from the blow, and even turning a little red, he was stunned.  
Hermione was breathing a little heavier than usual, glaring at Ron with angry yet wide eyes.  
No one moved a muscle for at least twelve seconds.

Fred gaped at Hermione, shocked beyond the use of words, and impressed. Given a bit more time he would have done something worse than slap Ron, but this surely seemed to have gotten the point across. He looked nervously between his brother and Hermione, and suppressed the urge to take a step back. He waited for the storm to break.  
Suddenly he thought of Percy, and wondered whether something similar was about to happen between Hermione and Ron that had happened between Percy and his father in the Burrow.

There was a long pause for at least two minutes, as the whole common room was at a standoff.  
Then Ron, with his hand still on his cheek, took a few steps backwards; wide eyes still locked on Hermione as if she had dug a dagger into his heart. She, in turn, glared after him sharply, but her eyes seemed to soften in the slightest ways as he walked silently backwards.  
When he reached the foot of the boy's dormitories, without a sound, he turned and very slowly walked up them, hand not moving from it's stunned position on his cheek.

Fred watched his brother leave, and immediately felt some rarely-used emotion - guilt. He heaved a sigh. Sure, Ron didn't have any right to be acting like such an idiot, but - though he had tried to convince himself otherwise for years - he was, in fact, his brother.  
Now he was torn, between staying and talking to Hermione or following Ron and attempting something between an apology or - he shuddered at the thought - some brotherly act of kindness.

Hermione sighed quickly and closed her eyes, before turning to the table where the shocked Harry was sitting at, and sat down quietly.  
Lee Jordan blinked.  
"H-Hermione?" Harry asked weakly, staring from her, to the stairs, and back.  
"W-What, just –"  
"Lets... not, Harry." Hermione said, cutting him off and instead moving some papers aside on the table to rest her arms on it folded, and then her head in them.

Fred hesitated, and then cautiously took a step towards Hermione, casting furtive looks over him at the stairs. George was looking at him through slightly narrowed eyes, but he chose to ignore him - obviously he too was thinking of the incident involving Percy. This made him completely off character, but he saw nothing else for it. He sighed, and then dropped down to kneel next to Hermione, looking at her carefully.  
"Would you like me to go talk to him?" he asked in a defeated tone - if she wanted him to talk to Ron, then he would. Obviously things were not working the way they were going thus far.

Hermione turned to him silently, her face indescribably blank.  
"No." She said sternly, but not mean. "Ron can go cry all he wants to. What he said was rude, foolish, and out of place and he had no right to hold anything against me. I don't . . ." There was a pause as she struggled for the right word, as if this were a hard decision. "Care."

Fred hesitated, letting her words sink in. Then he nodded, glancing uneasily towards the stairs to the boy's dormitories. He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, using every ounce of his willpower not to look at George.  
"Alright," he said, smiling wanly. Then he tried to fish around for something to say, and as his eyes rested on the letter that started the whole argument, he commented, "It - it really is cool, Hermione. You going into Sixth Year, I mean... I don't remember anyone skipping years before."  
It was his attempt to make her feel better. Perhaps not a very good attempt, but for the Weasley twin, it was an enormous effort.

Hermione smiled wryly.  
"Yeah . . . so, that means I will be able to see you more too!" Though by the tone of her voice, as new and surprised as it was like she had just realized it, did not entirely sound convincing as though she had not thought this before.  
Her eyes darted from Fred's face, to the boys dormitories stairs, and back.

"Yeah," Fred said with a grin of his own, but her glance was not lost on him. He frowned, wondering why girls - well, particularly Hermione - seemed so difficult to read! "Listen... don't let him bother you," he said gruffly, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his robes and gazing at her evenly. "I know you've been friends for - well, a long time, but I've known him since he was the size of Crookshanks and wobbling around with his teddy-bear," he smirked. "He's just - going through a growth spurt or something. He'll snap out of it. Once, he didn't speak to anyone in our family for a whole month..."  
He paused, considering, and then sighed.  
"But that's because we hexed him. Mum didn't find out for the longest time - she just thought he was being stubborn. But, well, the point is, he's always a bit funny."

Hermione grinned at Fred while he was telling the story, eyes twinkling slightly, but when the part came about the 'always a bit funny', the smile disappeared and she sighed heavily.  
"I just wish he would stop being so . . . protective. I mean, I know he's -- well, Ron... but he needs to get a grip. Let go -- and realize that I have a life. One that I would like to have control of... not -him- . . thank you very much."  
Harry uneasily moved a book aside to reach for a quill, trying to be casual about it, but the worried look on his face was not easily hidden.  
"And I think that he deserved what he got. . ." Hermione added abruptly.  
"He had no right to crack those comments... "

Fred nodded.  
"He's a control freak of a git," he agreed. "This - separation will be the best thing for him."  
Somehow the words struck him funny, for it sounded almost as if Hermione and Ron were about to go through a divorce. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards in a smile.  
"Besides," he said, turning to Harry with a grin. "He's still got you, mate. It's not like you're leaving him high and dry and without a friend in the world."

"I admire you, Harry... " Hermione muttered as she shuffled some more papers while sitting down.  
Harry grinned to Fred at his words. "Why, Hermione?" He asked her quizzically.  
"For being able to stand Ron for that long every day." She replied briskly.  
Harry chuckled slightly. "I stick by him, that's for sure."

Fred smiled. Not having anything better to do, he pulled up a chair as well, sitting between Harry and Hermione. He glanced at where his bag had been left over by the fire - bulging, to be sure, not with books but with "merchandise" he and George were trying to pawn off lately. No doubt there was more than enough homework to contend with, but he didn't really care. He looked curiously at Harry and Hermione, and he sighed, only now thinking how odd it would be now seeing the group split up.  
'Well, it was his own fault,' he told himself firmly.  
"You know, he'll probably be begging for you to forgive him soon," he commented. "Give him a few days away from you and he'll be all apologies..."

Hermione snorted, and when she spoke, sounded completely unconvinced.  
"Sure. . . Ron do that. Right. Well --" She sighed and brushed off a small brown book entitled 'Quidditch Through the Ages'. "-- Let's hope."


	5. Romance Blossoming

Harry was still quite bewildered inside as to what bugged Hermione so much -- that she would temporarily take Ron's cheek out of service, but he abandoned the thought according to Hermione's recent words, and instead occupied himself by turning to Fred. "So, what are you an Hermione going to do now that she is in your year, Fred?" He asked politely while Hermione turned a page in a book furiously.

Fred eyed the brown book, recognizing it as the same one that had caused the tiff in the library a few weeks ago. Posed with Harry's question, he considered. He really had not thought of it. He eyed Hermione, wondering whether it was possible to get her into a better mood or not.  
"I don't know," he said truthfully, then he grinned, an idea striking him, and he said, "I could always teach her how to play Quidditch

Hermione's eyes darted up to Fred. "Teach me how?" She asked, a grin creeping onto her lips.  
"But, maybe not –how-, because I already know HOW . . . . I've studied all the rules, and all the hundreds of ways to make a foul -- everything! Maybe you could just teach me some techniques, or – something. . ."  
Harry's jaw dropped. He was – quite frankly – very, very impressed with Fred's ability to make Hermione's mood change to good in one sentence. Quick as a snap. Very impressive.

Fred laughed at Hermione's reaction, very pleased with the success of his suggestion. He hadn't been sure whether this would work on Hermione or not - but he knew whenever he was feeling down, the subject of either Quidditch or the possibility of playing a trick on someone always managed to put a smile on his face. He was glad to see that it worked on Hermione as well - and a month ago he would have been shocked.  
"'Course," he said, his grin matching Hermione's now. "If you're willing to put off some homework now and again we could practice in the Quidditch Pitch."

Hermione laughed slightly, mood lightening immensely. "I'd love it! I would even skip a class or two . . ." She added in a mutter, then paused and realized that it was very un-Hermioneish, not only that but she, Hermione Granger, had just offered to skip some classes. Against the rules. Against her schedule. Against everything.  
What was she DOING?

Fred chuckled, the thought quite appealing to him. Who ever would have thought that Hermione would actually skive off on classes just to practice Quidditch?  
"Alright then, whenever you're up to it, so it shall be done!"  
Normally he and George used to sneak out and practice, whopping bludgers at each other. Well, if he wouldn't talk to him, then he was more than happy to teach Hermione how to play.

"A-A-Anyways..." Harry said loudly failing to stifle a yawn.  
"I've got barely any sleep, and I want to go take a nap before my eyes drop out of my head. Excuse me . . ." He got up from the table slowly, and with a backward, slightly nervous glance at Hermione, disappeared up the boy's dormitories.  
Hermione turned to Fred with a sigh.  
"So, you really are happy then? About the moving years?" She said in a would-be-calm voice, looking anxious to hear his answer.

Fred watched Harry leave. He suddenly wondered what he thought of the whole thing, being stuck between he, Ron and Hermione as he was. But before he had gotten long into this train of thought he was posed by Hermione's question. "Yeah," he said. He shot her a grin. In fact, it sounded quite wonderful idea to him, even if it did mean being alienated from two of his brothers. "Why wouldn't I be? It'll be great, seeing you more than once a day, you know."

Hermione was quite surprised, and happy with the outcome.  
He was actually looking forward to seeing her more.  
"Well, you know, it'll be great seeing someone who will make me laugh, and not angry . . ." She said with a smile, beginning to pack her books into her bag.

Fred snorted a bit.  
"Yeah, well, it'd be great to see someone who actually laughs at me and doesn't say I am an immature, attention-seeking, big-headed..." he tried to think of a few more choice adjectives his peers used to describe him, and then laughed, narrowing his eyes good-naturedly at her. "Out loud, at least."

Hermione looked shocked – and, quite scandalized.  
Her eyes widened and she frowned.  
"They WHAT? They c-call you those things? You've been called that. BY WHOM? What CIRCUMSTANCES? And WHY?" She seemed outraged at the fact that he had been insulted such, and was nearly as passionate about it as the S.P.E.W.  
"That's quite ridiculous. I can't even believe that they would call you immature. I mean, I used to think you were a few years ago, but now, I don't. 'Specially after you have that idea to set off fireworks in Umbridge's office." She grinned.

Fred raised his eyebrows in frank surprise. He hadn't expected Hermione to become offended - on his behalf - over what he had thought to make a simple joke. But, he did grin at her last remark.  
"Yes, the fireworks were a pretty good ideal, if I might say so myself. But don't get yourself worked up, Hermione - there's always the gits out there that take George and I for troublemakers. They just do not understand that it is our job to keep this school from being - well, frankly, boring," he smirked. "Plus there's the fact that they spontaneously pop into canaries now and again - they need someone to blame."

Hermione cocked her head to the side with a grimace of sarcastic thoughtfulness.  
"Well, there was Malfoy as a ferret, don't forget..." She said with a slight laugh.  
"I'll never forget that. Why don't you try a canary tart, whatever they are – on him? Then I might help you with sabotaging Umbridge's office . . . I do feel a bit," Her eyes twinkled. "Mischievous, when it comes to Professor Toady."

Fred burst out laughing, something that the visualization of Ferret-Malfoy always managed to do to the Weasley twin. It was a day that would go down in Hogwarts' history for as long as he could help it.  
"You know, I did try it once," he said, his eyes glittering at the memory. "George and I managed to plant it right on his plate at breakfast one morning, but the scoff-bag Crabbe ate it instead," he winced. "For a moment I thought that the Cream malfunctioned - he looks more like a chicken when he transforms than a canary. But I suppose that's just because of his - er - exceeding girth."  
He paused, grinning.  
"Though I'd be happy to try it again - anything is worth sabotaging that old Hag of a manticore."  
He was a bit surprised - he could hardly guess what Hermione was able to do when she was feeling "mischievous".

Hermione looked at the ceiling, seeming to be pondering something.  
"You know, I could make a few potions . . . I know a mighty amount of ones them." She said matter-of-factly. "Some that Malfoy might find... -interesting-. But still," The brown eyed girl added hastily, remembering that she WAS Hermione, and that not only did she have a reputation to keep, but she also had grades and schooling to do.  
"There is much work to be done. Flitwick wants a three foot essay on memory charms, and it's due by Thursday!" The anxiety-full old Hermione's face resumed its spot in the very brief and shining mischievous one, once again making her look like the regular Hermione.

"Memory charms, eh?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Forgot them ages ago."  
But he sighed - it was frustrating, how Hermione begin switching into Hermione-mode and - well, non-Hermione-mode: the mode that would bait Malfoy with interesting concoctions.  
"Come, Hermione - there's always plenty of time for lessons," he said, smirking. "And far too little time for a bit of fun!"

Hermione seemed to be having an inner battle.  
The temptation was there, to shed her studious, strict ruled, Hermioneish way and join Fred in his fun, but the other half was screaming out loud; telling her to stay where she was to save her reputation and grades.  
After all, she was taking Arithmacy as well . . .  
"I... well... I –" She sputtered, eyes darting across the table.  
"I know it is fun to occasionally play a prank on Umbridge, and have a go on a broom... b-but studying is important, and there w-will be time for fun during, holidays – a-and . . ."  
This was not good. She was letting her guard down and making herself too vulnerable for Fred to take her down and turn her into the different Hermione. Not good.

Fred looked minorly scandalized.  
"Studying? Important?" he blinked, as if he had never heard anything so preposterous in his entire life. "Well, I suppose so, but there are many things much more important than - or, possibly, of equal importance to - studying!"  
He waved his hand across the common room, as if something would pop up out of thin air.  
"Just think, Hermione - you only have two-- or, now, one - more year left in Hogwarts! Soon you'll have graduated, and you'll realize that you've spent seven whole years, just studying, when you could have been doing a hundred and one other useful and important things!" He shook his head sadly. "Playing Quidditch, ridding the school of the wordst bint of a professor it has had in ages (or annoying her at least), enlightening the lives of our fellow students by turning them into various different kinds of animals, leaving your mark on the school so that your predecessors could remember you for years to come... I could go on forever! And after you leave Hogwarts, you never have the opportunity to do any of these things again. Though, you can study until you turn old and grey and begin to resemble professor Flitwick himself!"

Hermione seemed to be listening apprehensively as Fred talked, and when he made the Flitwick point, looked down with wide eyes as if highly considering something.  
"Well... I guess . . ." She said slowly. "I guess you – ARE right – I mean, why waste the time that I, have to have fun, and study in between, and – but, oh Fred, these years at Hogwarts are what starts up my career! The most IMPORTANT studying years! Better now than later!"  
Her voice was slow and cautious at first, but quickened and sharpened near the end.

Fred let out a long, drawn-out, slightly exaggerated sigh - it was not as if he were getting annoyed. Quite far from it - he was very much enjoying the debate with Hermione. But he had to keep up the show for effect.  
"Hermione, Hermione - sure, lessons are important, but it doesn't mean that you have to let them take over your LIFE. How come you can't - say - study one day, the next day, have a little fun?" he asked, lifting his eyebrows. "Think about it - if you even just take an HOUR - in that time, you can successfully pull off a number of things --- like, poisoning the ponce Draco and waiting for the results - that can't take more than a few minutes. You could easily learn a new Quidditch technique. You could even -- nah, the list goes on forever. Besides. You know almost all this stuff anyway! I'll bet you - given an few hours' worth of studying - you could parse ((nyeh, stupid Neopets)) the N.E.W.T.s in a heartbeat."

Hermione was listening once again, chin now in her hand.  
Her ears perked at the N.E.W.T point, and she seemed almost highly convinced by his whole speech, but skeptical.  
"Just... one hour, a day..." She repeated quietly, pondering about just how much studying that would allow.  
"And then... then I could still get my studying finished... and have time to sabotage Umbridge in any way shape or form..."

Fred beamed.  
"Exactly," he said, happy that she was finally seeing his point. "See? You can still have fun and not completely goof of like George and I. Besides - isn't seeing old Toady's face all purple with rage worth missing a few minutes' worth of studying?"  
In his humble opinion, he would drop every lesson - needed or no - to see the horrible professor canned.  
A rare grin cracked over Hermione's face.  
"You've no idea. Now all we need is for her to become Headmistress and have us all become slaves..." She said with a small snort.  
"But let's see..." Hermione leaned in slightly, eyes twinkling mischievously.  
"What can we do to the old hag?"

The Weasley twin's eyes sparkled at the question, and he leaned in as well in a conspiratorial manner. Yes, debating was fun - but this - this was his specialty. Planning the attack.  
"Hm... well..." he tilted his head, thinking. "I'd say the Fireworks went off with great success, but no point trying them again... chances are she won't be caught off her guard by those again. Hmm... what do you think? What would you like to do to old Toady, for your first try?"

A feeling surged through Hermione unlike any other. A mischievous, wicked, daring, evil feeling that felt pleasantly satisfactory at planning the Toad's bring-down.  
It was quite unlike any other she had ever had. Ever.  
"Personally, I would like to bring her down upon her knees." She said venomously, eyes closing with a malicious uplifted expression, and opening again.  
"Something that will really make her fall, yet not know who did it... and I am no expert at pranks, that would be you. So what's the master plan, Fred?"

As Fred began to see the look in Hermione's eyes that got into his own whenever he was about to pull something off, he grinned brightly. He didn't think it was possible - but he was certainly glad it was. On an impulse he glanced sidelong to where George had been a few minutes ago, but it appeared that he had gone off to bed already. While he was at it, he made sure nobody who sympathized with the Professor - though few there might be who were - was present.  
"Hmm... on her knees, eh? It would have to be some prank, then... I didn't even think she HAD knees, her legs are so short and stubby... let's see. Can't be too drastic, or we will be expelled if we're caught... but don't worry, that never happens if I have anything to do with it..."  
He frowned, scratching the back of his neck as he contemplated the many schemes he and George had managed in the past.  
"Well, this will take some thought. There are many possibilities. We could try to destroy her office, but -- well, that would only get her angry, not bring her to her knees. So it'll have to be something more direct. ... What were these potions you spoke of using on our dear friend Draco?"

A look of comprehension dawned on Hermione's face, and her eyes widened.  
"Oh, Fred...." She said breathlessly, her grin — if possible – widening.  
"I have always wanted to make a truth potion... Or—" She giggled slightly. "Maybe even a love potion for the old hag!"

Fred looked as if Christmas was being held a few months earlier.  
"A love potion?" he breathed, his eyes glistening at the very thought. "Wow, Hermione - now that- THAT is an idea."  
He looked upon her with a measure of awe. This idea by far outshone any he and George had in mind for the old Wretch.

Hermione's eyes sparkled. "I believe it is in 'Most Potente Potions' and I could certainly steal some ingredients from Snape's storage... and now that I think of it – I am feeling a bit... mischievous..." Her voice went breathless and excited at the last word, and she stood up.  
"I want to get this done as fast as possible, so the temptation to rip the Toad's hair out will be somewhat reduced...."

Fred stood as well, getting even more excited by the moment. This prank would - perhaps - rank right up there with the Fireworks in Umbridge's office and the ton-tongue toffee extricated upon Dudley.  
"Your wish is my command, madame," he said with an eloquent bow, grinning from ear to ear. "Fast it is. What sort of ingredients shall we need for this concoction? And --" he paused, a new thought striking him and making him grin all the more broadly. "Who do you think shall be the unlucky recipient of the Toad's affection?"

A very malicious grin cracked over Hermione's face.  
"I have an idea... how about a greasy haired long nosed menacing black eyed someone?"  
Her head was swimming with the uncanny desire to cause havoc, especially to someone who had made her life at Hogwarts miserable for the past 5 years.  
"And I am not sure of the entire recipe for the love potion, but it should take around three days to finish properly, if we really want it to be strong... and what do you think of my recipient for the Toad's affection?" She added hopefully, yet still with an evil look about her.  
It was actually fun planning mayhem for unsuspecting souls.

Fred oggled at her.  
"Merlin's beard," he gasped. "Are you SURE you have never done this before? That - that is brilliant. Abso-flippin-lutely bloody brilliant."  
He would burst out laughing if he was not so impressed. Instead, he grinned, savouring the visual.  
"Ah, and what a lovely couple they make..." his eyes misted over. "I wonder if they'd have children...?"  
He was lost in the mental imagery of greasy little globular slime-balls chasing each other around Snape's office, Umbridge and Severus snogging in a corner...

Fred may not have laughed, but Hermione did.  
She burst into loud gales of laughter, brown eyes shining with mirth.  
Holding a hand to her mouth, she was unable to control her howls of amusement at the funny picture now forming in her mind.  
"Oh... that -- is – great ..." The usually studious girl choked, staring at Fred for a moment, then being overtaken in a new fit of giggles.  
Hermione was inside surprised with herself. Never before had she laughed this hard about something she enjoyed picturing. Or anything at all, in general. It was a nice change, being able to laugh freely with someone about this particular subject.  
She knew that it would never be this way with Harry or Ron.  
They would find it just plain uncanny and bizarre that she did anything like this.

Fred soon collapsed into hysterics as Hermione's laughter became contagious. He dropped heavily back onto a chair, making it skid back a few inches in the slightly exaggerated movement. Hermione was surprising him - she was proving herself not only to be the most brilliant student in school, but the only one - other than George - that could render him nearly incapacitated with laughter.  
"Hermione - I swear - you could --" he broke of laughing, and wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. "You could be - be- really great someday!"

Hermione's laughter died down, periodically interrupted by occasional giggles, but she wiped a tear from her eye and sat down at the table, smile fading slightly.  
"Although Fred, I don't t-think..." Her joyous face dropped completely and she now looked slightly puzzled. "But Fred, I don't want to be famous or great... o-or known for things like this... really, I don't. I just want to play maybe one or two... or three tricks on Umbridge. I really don't know if I want to make this a career like you and George – and I really don't think I would like it if I became, well, no offense, but classified under the same thing as you and George. Ever. I have other dreams for my career, and would be horrified if the whole school found out, or even got a whiff of the fact that I played a joke on Umbridge. Then I would be a c-common.... prankster!"  
Her eyes widened as if the very thought frightened her.  
"I don't want to be great for this!"

Fred - still unable to control his grinning - sobered down enough to consider this. He leaned his elbow against the table, looking at her through thoughtfully narrowed eyes.  
"Nah, I didn't mean it in that way," he said. "You will be great to me at the very least -- I wouldn't expect you to follow George and my footsteps. 'Tis a hard job, you know. And don't worry, if any of the school found out about this," he considered. "You could always say I either bullied you into this or made the potion myself. Easy as that- you're clean and free, and it'll just be another escapade to put in Filch's file under the Weasley Twins."

Hermione still looked quite worried and skeptical, and when Fred had offered to blame it on him so willingly, the brown-haired girl frowned.  
"Oh, I would never do that, Fred. If I wouldn't let Harry and Ron get blamed for something they didn't do in our first year, when they saved my life, I most certainly wouldn't blame a good friend for something I chose to do." She said matter-of-factly.

The Weasley twin's grin faded into a smile.  
"I know. Just saying, if you're really worried about it, I'd be happy to take the blame," but he grinned again. "Yet I assure you, we will not get caught. I've gotten good at this, I promise! I'm not as dense as I look -" he teased. "If sneaking fireworks into our dear Toady's office was difficult, then sabotaging her drink won't be that hard."

Hermione looked doubtful for a few moments, as if inside her head the cogs were working furiously, but then she grinned.  
"When do we begin?" She asked mischievously, leaning in closer and scrambling onto her knees in the chair.  
"I want to make Umbridge embarrassed so much, she'll wish she never came to this school... that horrible woman..."

Fred nodded enthusiastically.  
"And I am sure her first snog with the grease-mutant will accomplish that nicely," he said with a malicious grin. "We begin as soon as possible. We will have to break into Snape's office. George and I have done that before," he paused, thinking. George most definitely would not be joining in on this, considering the fact that he wasn't talking to him at the moment. "But it hasn't been easy. The bugger's awfully attached to his office. But I suppose one big diversion should be enough to draw him away."

Hermione tapped her chin thoughtfully for a few moments, then snapped her fingers.  
"You know, I bet Harry'd be welcome to cause a diversion, considering that Snape loves to torment him.... Or," She added, cocking her head to the side. "I could cause a diversion by getting into a snipe with Malfoy..."

Fred laughed.  
"Brilliant idea. Yes, get into a snipe with Malfoy! No doubt the bloody git deserves it. Then you must give me a list of these ingredients. ... And when Snape sorts out the snipe, I'll sneak in and swipe the stuff," he nodded to himself, pleased. "And we'll do that -- eh, I'm not sure when the next Potions class is. I really should take a look at my schedule now and again - I always follow everyone else to the next classes."

"Next potions class is this Thursday at 1 o'clock in the afternoon." Hermione said promptly, taking a quill and scribbling something down on a random piece of paper.  
"And today is Monday, so that should give me enough time to get the list by then... even with my busier 6th year schedule. Which reminds me, I need to get downstairs to the library -- I heard Professor Flitwick was going to bring up Confundus Charms in class tomorrow, and so I want to get some important studying done about them so I might have a head start. Where'you off too?" She added, slinging her bag over her shoulder and staring at Fred.

Fred blinked at her.  
"Ah - nowhere," he said. He glanced at his bag on the ground - he had pushed it beneath the table at some point. He thought that there was perhaps some sort of homework in there that possibly, possibly had to be done, if he wished to at least not fail utterly in all his studies. He kicked at the bag and frowned. "I'm sure I'm supposed to be doing a bit of homework. But I'm sure I could get Lee to do i--- er, help me later."  
He grinned innocently.

Hermione raised her eyebrows.  
"Alright then." She said blankly, adjusting her back on her shoulder.  
There was a pause while Hermione shuffled her feet awkwardly, thinking to herself.  
Why was she lingering? Why didn't she just zip out of the common room to go off to her studying? What was she waiting for?  
Another moment passed as Hermione stared at Fred a few seconds, then back down to the ground.  
Was there some kind of magnet that was keeping her here?  
What was the reason that she didn't turn around and go?  
There was no reason to stay. . . there was nothing to wait for . . . .  
"Well, I guess.... I'll be seeing you around..." She said slowly, and turned around just as slow.  
Hermione mentally shook herself. She was being stupid. There was something odd inside her going on... something that even confused her as to why she stayed the extra minute.  
The brown haired girl shuffled slowly off to the portrait hole, opened it, and paused right outside it for a moment after climbing out.

Fred was torn. He shifted in his seat, sat up, sat back down again, and frowned after Hermione for a good - oh, ten seconds or so. He glanced at the portrait hole - glanced at his bag - glanced at the stairs that led to the Boys' Dormitories. He looked all around him and his thoughts turned in circles.  
What? What was bothering him?  
He really did have to do homework. Right? Well - he hated to admit it, but he DID actually have to do a bit of his own now and again. He could not very well hang about and talk to Hermione all day, much as the thought appealed to him. And as George was not speaking to him, they could not very well go over Joke-Shop business. Reluctantly he reached down, and hesitated before touching his bag, and then a thought hit him.  
Of course! Why did he not think about it before?  
He almost winced at the thought, and banged his head once on the table as he considered this new plan. If he carried through with it, it would make him feel - well, almost tainted. But also, it really couldn't hurt all THAT much ---- could it? Yes. No. Maybe so. Well. It was better than studying alone. He sighed, stood up, grabbed his bag, and then darted for the portrait hole. Plenty of people studied in the Library. Just because he, Fred, had never done so before, didn't mean that he never could.

Hermione sighed quietly, and shook herself, this time physically, before setting off down the stone hallway.  
Foolish, she thought, really. Foolish to hope... -- but hope what?  
There was nothing to wait for! Nothing to ponder!  
It was a ridiculous and childish idea. Hermione could study alone.  
There was no problem with that.  
She had accomplished it many times before, and loved it.  
Then why did it feel empty this time?  
It took a few moments to realize that her drifting thoughts had brought her right in front of the library.  
'Stop it.' She thought to herself firmly as the girl sat down in her usual table back in the corner hidden behind a few bookcases.  
'Stop this ridiculous longing to laugh again. There is studying to be done.' After finishing her inward battle, Hermione opened three of her hefty books on charms and bezoars, and leaned her chin on her hand, biting the tip of her quill and beginning to study.  
Her eyes darted hopefully up to the door, but then sharply snapped back down to her book.  
"The Confundus charm causes confusion. A person who is affected by this Charm is said to be Confunded. . . ." 'I wonder if he is studying in there... how will he get his research books though? What if he comes in here?' "A person who is Confunded, may have a disorientated view of what is really true, and may believe something that is completely different according to the person who first cast the spell. . ." 'Maybe he just wants to stay away from me... maybe he is on his way down here right now, though...' Hermione's thoughts were wandering off, and her brown eyes were only some-what focused on the book in front of her. Her long brown curls were falling in her face, and she blankly tucked them back.

The library. In a second Fred went from a dead sprint to a dead halt in front of the door, looking upon it with wide, slightly fearful eyes. Panting, he clutched his bag to his chest, going over his decision once more before taking the plunge. If he decided to study in the library, then he would tarnish his flawless record of - NOT studying in the library. It would be a first. Yes, a true first. Though he was known on occasion to go into the room - he had not been in there too long ago - never, ever had he ever thought to STUDY there. If George knew, he could possibly be teased for the rest of his life. There was nothing stopping him - he could simply turn around and go back, and never take the dangerous step between - Fred and someone who was NOT Fred. Someone who was willing to take horrible, big, dangerous risks just to study with Hermione.  
He sighed, and with a resigned look behind him walked purposefully through the door. The library never seemed so intimidating- books, so many books! Fred was a bit blinded by it all. At least there were not so many people in here as he thought - he would not make THAT much of a disgrace of himself. He began to look for Hermione. It took a bit, but finally he saw her, hidden near the back. He shouldered his bag, took a deep breath, and walked towards her.  
"Hi," he said, grinning a little nervously. "Mind if I join you?" he shrugged a bit, motioning towards his bag. "Too quiet in the common room, y'know."

Hermione jumped with a start at the sound of a voice, a voice actually talking to HER, and her wide eyes slowly looked up from their position that was previously locked on the book.  
The back of her hand was now supporting her cheek, and when she looked at who it was standing in front of her – she sat rooted to the spot.  
A mixture of shocking joy made her want to yelp out in happiness, but also confusion and puzzlement that Fred Weasley was actually in the library.  
She settled for cocked eyebrow and a mock-disapproving smile, and said teasingly,  
"What, no paper bag over your face?" But it wasn't mean.... more of a pleasantly surprised comment.  
Hermione scooted over a bit, and shoved some books out of the way to make room for Fred, happiness inside screaming to be let out.  
She actually had a study partner! The first one that wasn't Ron and Harry!  
This was – new, nervous, and neat.

Fred laughed - it was a bit more high-pitched perhaps than he had meant it to be, but he must say that he was impressed that he was able to laugh at all. If it were not for Hermione, he would have probably been hiding under the table or running away as quickly as possible. "No - no paper bag."  
He decided that it was quite worth it - Hermione looked so happy! He was surprised – why ever would he be so deserving of such a thing? But he decided to take it in stride - he placed his bag onto the table, sitting down beside Hermione. He cast a wide gaze over the books piled around him.  
"Heh - there's a first time for everything, eh?"  
If Hermione was to become a bit more rebellious - no reason he couldn't - return the favor a bit, eh?

Hermione grinned. "'Course there is...and I don't know why you are so edgy. No one ever comes back to this table, let alone see it. It's well hidden see, behind the bookcases, so you can relax."  
It suddenly struck Hermione that if it was hard to spot, how did Fred find it?  
Surely he hadn't been looking THAT hard to see her – and surely he would have just given up looking for her instead of actually setting foot in the library without seeing her?  
She flipped through her book, ("Charms of the Century!") and stopped at another, more advanced chapter on Confundus Charms, then blinked and craned her neck around the bookcase.

Chuckling at her remarks, Fred reached out for his bag, pulling it closer to him.  
"Yeah - why do you sit so far back here, anyway?" he asked.  
He opened his bag, and began shuffling around inside through the handfuls of skiving Snackboxes and implements of destruction for every-day use. 'Course there was no reason for him to be edgy - it was not as if he was going to get physically ill from being in the library for more than a few minutes at a time. He pulled out a handful of notes that looked suspiciously to be in someone else's handwriting, and frowned at them, wondering if these were for the current lesson in - he squinted - History of Magic.

Hermione looked back at him and was momentarily frozen, staring at him as if she had never seen him before, then she looked down at her books and grimaced, leaning her cheek against the back of her hand once more.  
"Well, just... certain, reasons... nothing to be – er, -- concerned about. I sit back here because, well, it's nice a-and – er – cozy, and.... Comfortable. For me."  
Lying through her teeth, she was. The real reason she sat back here was only known to her. And she would never tell anyone. Except perhaps Harry... not Ron, for she was currently livid with him.

Fred lifted an eyebrow skeptically. Nice? Cozy? Comfortable? He looked around him, but could see nothing different about this table than the ones closer to the front of the library. He glanced sidelong at Hermione again. If the girl had one fault, it was that she was a bad liar. Nah, scratch that, an awful liar. Even worse than Ron was - and he was one of the worst.  
"Oh?" he said, his tone a bit flat. He looked away and pulled a book up, looking blandly at the cover. Inwardly he was wondering when Hermione would start trusting him - didn't he prove himself yet? He hadn't even told his own twin brother about Draco's curse, and now George wasn't even speaking to him.

Hermione bit her bottom lip, facing downwards to the book in front of her.  
She had heard the disbelieving "Oh?" from Fred, and sighed heavily, rubbing her eye.  
Should she really tell him the real reason that she remained hidden back here? The real reason that she hid behind bookcases, away from most of the people?  
Maybe. But at the same time, a loud, resounding, and frightful NO.  
Her brown eyes flickered over to Fred, and paused on him, head half in her arm, and elbow on table.  
"Do I really need to tell you why..." She muttered.  
Was she going to say it? Should she? Could she?

He looked back at her again, but his annoyance started to disappear. Instead he gave a half-smile and gave a quick shake of his head that slightly mussed his fiery red hair.  
He turned his eyes downwards, toying with the first pages of the book - something about the history of dragons.  
"You don't have to," he said. "I mean, I wouldn't force you to - but I must admit that I am a bit curious."  
Indeed - whyever would Hermione be hiding in the library? Of all the places in the school, he would have thought that Miss Granger would feel most at home there!

Hermione blinked slowly again and ran a hand over her forehead, keeping it positioned over her eyes and nose exasperatedly.  
"Well, it does get annoying, you know. Well, not that – you, would...know, but speaking differently, it gets annoying when people like the girl at the ball keep coming up to you, or some people hissing rude comments in your ear... Or insults that make you want to snap back at them right in their rude, annoying, excitedly foolish faces... but you don't – because..." She had said this very quickly, and took a sigh after she drew breath.  
"Because it would ruin your identity as the quiet studious nerdy one at 'that table over there'..."

Fred snorted slightly, and cast a venomous look about him, as if said girl was flittering about.  
"Well, if you ask me," he said dryly. "That isn't an identity that I would like to keep intact..."  
He grinned at her, and nudged Hermione with his elbow a bit, trying to lighten her mood. "But, hey, if I'm here, who do you think'll dare come up and insult you, eh? They'll find their own fist halfway up their -- er, nose - before they could even finish their sentence."  
Fred rarely felt protective over anybody except his own family - though at the moment he didn't even care about Ron, he could get teased by the whole house of Slytherin and he'd probably help. But Hermione was someone he'd be more than willing to slug into oblivion for.

Hermione gave a small snort when Fred had fumbled with the word 'nose' and smiled sheepishly as he finished.  
"That's nice of you Fred, really... it is." And she truly did sound grateful. For she was.  
"— But you can't come with me into the library every time... I mean, this is only a once in a lifetime thing...." She paused and frowned slightly. "Isn't it?"

Fred shrugged, and looked curiously about him.  
"Well, I don't know. I mean- now that I'm in here, I see that I won't drop dead immediately from stepping foot into the library. Isn't such a bad place, really," he ruffled the pages of his book subconsciously, thinking hard. It really wasn't so bad - at least not as bad as he thought it would be. "I don't see any reason why I shouldn't come now and again. I mean - unless, of course, you would rather me not to."

Hermione nearly laughed out loud. She was staring at Fred with wide eyes as if he had gone mad, and when she spoke, kept her voice at an urgently quiet tone.  
"Not WANT you to come in here with me? When you, other than Ron and Harry, have been within a foot of my table without hissing rude comments in my ear and then running away? When Fred Weasley has come into the library and befriended me, going past that barrier at the doorway into the dreaded library to come and study with me? When you are the only person other than Harry to whom I feel comfortable with just ME? When you are one of the few people that can make me laugh? As in really laugh? The only one, other than Harry, who accepts my like of Quidditch? Well, except for the snafu a while ago, but that was just curiosity and shock at seeing Hermione read something like that..."  
She paused to take a breath and then she plowed on, voice urgent no longer, more just quiet, and her eyes were slightly less wide.  
"The only one other than Harry and Ron who has accepted me as –me- and actually, well, at least I hope, liked me as a friend for who I am? That's nice to know... so why, after all those points would I want you to leave?"

Needless to say, Fred Weasley was a bit surprised by her reaction to what he had meant to be a sort of joke. He regarded her with raised eyebrows, and then, slowly, as her rant came to a close his face broke out into its accustomary grin.  
"Perhaps because I secretly annoy the heck out of you but you're too polite to say so," he teased, and then laughed.  
He was a bit embarrassed - he didn't know what to say. Well, that was a first. Fred Weasley - speechless. He continued to play with the pages of the book until he realized he would probably rip it. He closed it and drummed his fingers on the cover.  
"No - I'm glad you want me to stay, then. It's hard to come by such good company as you, you know."

It was Hermione's turn to be speechless, though she had been many times before.  
Whether good or bad in those times, this one was certainly a good.  
Her cheeks went slightly pink and she too was turning pages of the books rather too fast than to look entirely plausible as to reading.  
"Thanks, Fred. It's nice to know someone other than Harry says that about me...."  
Then her eyes widened and she smiled rather weakly. "What are we doing, it's already been 10 minutes and we have an essay to finish..."

"Yeah," he said, and laughed. Suddenly an idea occurred to him, and he became thoughtful. "You know, Hermione, I do believe everyone will be shocked - I do not once remember handing in a complete essay. Interesting - I can still shock people even while I'm not making trouble."  
He liked the sound of that. So he looked eagerly about him, grabbed a roll of parchment, and then hit an obstacle. He turned to her sheepishly.  
"Er - Essay about - what again?" he asked. "I wasn't - er - paying attention."

Hermione laughed, but silenced embarrassedly when Madam Pince almost instantly bustled over, brandished a feather duster at her, and cocked her eyebrow warningly.  
"Two, actually. Confundus charms, and love potions." She corrected quietly, throwing an uneasy glance at the librarian, who had walked away stiffly.

The infamous red-head glanced at Madam Pince. He wondered whether she was suspecting him of blowing something up. He grinned.  
"Heh. The second one should come in useful... hmm," he considered this. "I probably could do with learning the Confundus Charm anyway... could come in useful for future joke-shop projects..."  
That was all Fred needed to justify this - unwaranted act of studying. And, hey, in the end he would be more educated than his dear brother.

By gut reaction, Hermione nearly rolled her eyes, but suddenly realized that it was fine when he talked about the joke shop. She couldn't control everything, so why bother with him and his pranks if he wanted to talk about it?  
"Yes, anyways, the Confundus charm, look, here's a book on it over here..."  
Her hand reached out across the table and swiped the books "Charms of the Century!"  
Then pulled it back and held it open for both Fred and her to see.

The twin leaned in to squint at the book. He had to read a few sentences twice before it began to sink in - he hadn't done any serious reading in a long while. He decided - after a while - that he could quite like studying - with Hermione as his partner, at least.  
"Do you think Crabbe and Goyle are on some sort of permanent Confundus charm?" he asked, after reading the side-effects of the charm. He couldn't help it - no matter how much he was paying attention to something, he just couldn't keep his thoughts to himself. It was this impulsive nature of his that perhaps was the REASON he didn't bother studying with anyone else. He gave her an apologetic grin before trying to turn his attention once more to the book.

Hermione grinned in spite of herself and shook her head.  
"Oh Fred, honestly..." She said with a mock disapproving smile, and then rolled her eyes, turning back to the book.  
"The Confundus Charm will, however powerful the charm, momentarily confuse the person or being it is set on, making them believe whatever the caster wants them to." She read aloud quietly.

"Useful indeed..." murmured Fred. Already he was thinking about a hundred and fifty ways in which this charm would be of value to him. In so doing, he wouldn't easily forget this information, so the studying was doing its job. He didn't bother scribbling it out on the parchment. "You know, we could make Filch believe that he's a newt - or - or Malfoy that Goyle has a crush on him - or --" he paused, considering. "Y'think we could use it somehow with our Matchmaking-Service?"

"Maybe for Snape." Hermione said thoughtfully, shrugging her shoulders.  
"Now pay attention..." She added in a hiss. "We need to get these finished before Monday I believe, and it's already Friday, isn't it?"  
Her thoughts paused, then drifted over to a book and her brown eyes widened. "Most Potente Potions! I need to get it signed out, but need a permission paper! How am I going to get one?? None of the teachers will give me permission t sign it out without permission, and the only teacher that actually did, was Professor Lockhart, but he isn't here now..."

This hadn't occured to Fred before. He frowned thoughtfully at Hermione.  
"Well, I certainly can't ask any of the professors," he stated the obvious. "With a book like that no knowing what I'd do with it... hmm. Well, we could always forge a signature. I have dozens of detention slips from - oh, almost everyone. Don't like to hand 'em in - like souveniers, y'know. I have so many no one ever misses them. Couldn't be that hard to copy a signature down onto a slip - and Madam Pince shouldn't suspect you of any foul play."

"Yes but, b-but..." Hermione was struggling to find something that might go wrong. "Oh Fred, what if she goes back to whatever teacher had signed it and asked, and that teacher said no, and..."  
Her voice drifted off, and suddenly a wide-eyed look of comprehension dawned on the girls face and when she spoke, it was in an excited but deadly quiet whisper. She leaned over the table at Fred with a smile unlike any other. "That's IT! Harry! His invisibility cloak!! I'll ask him to borrow it, and use it to get the book at night!!"

Yeah," Fred said, nodding. "Top notch thing that is, that invisibility cloak of his! Wish I had one..."  
He did, for a moment, consider what would happen if he used Snape's signature to forge the permission slip - but in the end he decided that Hermione's plan was not only perhaps better, but more fun to boot. The thought of sneaking into the Library at night quite thrilled him.  
"Do you really think he'll go along with it?" he asked eagerly - he could not imagine Harry parting with his cloak

Hermione shrugged. "I hope so. If not, then we are definitely in trouble..." Her voice broke off and she sighed. "Now we need to get back to studying... a one and a half foot essay on Confundus charms and the effects of it, by Monday. Hurry up...."

A few hours later, Hermione sighed and leaned back against her seat in the library. "Well, now that you've finished one complete essay, what do you say, is it that bad?" Her eyebrow cocked as she surveyed Fred through amused brown eyes.

Glassy-eyed, Fred gazed blankly ahead of him into the general direction of rows of bookshelves. His hand twitched compulsively - hours. He had just spent hours preparing and writing out an essay. That was more than he had spent doing such his whole life. In a slightly delayed reaction, he turned and surveyed Hermione through wide eyes. His first reply would have been - how in the blazes was she able to do this every day? But he only had the energy to say,  
"N-no. Not bad a-at all."  
He tried to smile to emphasize the point, but it only came out in a pitiful half-smirk.

Hermione grinned in spite of herself and broke into silent laughter.  
"Come off it, it wasn't THAT bad, was it? I saw your hand twitching... there is something seriously wrong with you...." Her smile widened as she shook her head and stared at Fred. "Ready to head back to the common room?"

Fred snickered. He took the twitching hand and massaged his wrist - he had never done so much writing before.  
"Mother's been saying there's something wrong with me since the day I was born," he said cheerfully - now that the studying was over he was beginning to snap out of his delirium. "And the common room does sound quite nice to me at the moment."

Hermione clicked her tongue with the amused shake of a head, and proceeded to pack some of the books back in her bag.  
"Come on, gather your things, Mr. I- hate- studying...."  
Inside, it was highly entertaining watching Fred twitch compulsively for the past two and a half hours.... not to mention the fact that she had a study partner was not only fun this time, but wonderful. Fred somehow always found the way to make her laugh – unlike Ron who always got her angry.

"Well, I don't hate studying," Fred said timidly, though he grinned brightly. He sprang to his feet, vowing never to sit in one chair for longer than an hour again in his whole entire life. As he began stuffing things back into his bag, he said, quite matter-of-factly, "Though, I don't hate trolls either, and I wouldn't want to be around one of those for too long now, would I?"  
Though, as much as he teased, it was not so bad as he thought. He rather had fun studying with Hermione, though he would never admit that studying would be fun. He'd rather eat a toad.  
He could barely imagine what Flitwick would look like upon receiving his very first complete essay that actually had something to do with the subject he wanted.

At the word 'trolls' Hermione had a sudden memory of the previous year when Ron had said quite rudely, "We don't want to end up with a pair of trolls..." About the Yule Ball, and then had proceeded to insult Eloise Midgen after Hermione had inquired indignantly what exactly he meant by 'trolls'.  
Snapping back to reality, and moving from her momentarily frozen position staring into space, an ugly look came onto Hermione's face.  
She gave a quiet yet exasperated groan at the thought of the idiot red-haired boy who was quite rude, and slung her bag over her shoulder.

Fred noticed Hermione's abrupt change of mood, and was half through the process of slinging his bag over his shoulder when he paused to frown at her. He wondered if his comment had somehow put her off into a bad mood - though he couldn't at all figure out what it was that might have aqquired such a reaction.  
"You alright, Hermione?" he asked tentatively, shrugging his bag higher onto his shoulder and stepping up to her.

Hermione looked at him and grimaced uneasily.  
"It's just that... well," She laughed weakly and began to walk towards the library doors slowly, so as Fred could follow.  
"When you said 'trolls' I was reminded of something Monsieur Jealous said last year...."

Following diligently, the Weasley twin gave a short snort of indignation.  
"Oh, I can imagine several different ways my dear brother could use THAT word," he said, but he looked sidelong with a slightly worried expression at Hermione just the same. "What did he say?"

Hermione led out of the library, and waited until they were down the hallway to respond. And when she did, it was in a loud, annoyed tone.  
"He just said that Harry and him better hurry up and get dates if they didn't want to wind up with a pair of trolls."  
Then, sensing some worry in Fred's voice, added, "Why?" curiously.

Fred shrugged in reply to her last question. It was interesting to him, how Hermione's thoughts turned to Ron whenever she finally began to have a bit of fun. He wondered just how long his brother had been dragging her down.  
"Little does he know," he muttered as they drew nearer the Library doors. "He is about the closest thing to a troll I have ever seen."

At this comment, Hermione's face split into a smile and she burst into gales of laughter.  
"Fred..." She choked between giggles. "I don't know what you do, or how you do it..." A tear was wiped from the corner of her eye as she shifted her bag on her shoulder. "But you always make me laugh..."

The slightly-older twin chuckled.  
"Well, I am glad to be of service to you, ma'am," he said, and, thinking it would be appropriate to use a bit of matters, held the door open for her. He liked making people laugh. In all reality, it was the only way he and George could - well, get a bit of attention, what with a family full of Head Boys and Prefects and such. With so many siblings, it was nigh on impossible to get any real attention without causing some trouble.

Hermione flashed him a grin, and walked through the door, proceeding up the stone steps.  
She paused to wait for him, thinking.  
Why did she feel so comfortable around Fred?  
What was the real reason?  
A slightly subtle thought drifted by, and it made her frown slightly.  
No... couldn't be.

Fred breathed in deeply as soon as he stepped out of the library - was it his imagination, or did the air seem so much more - clearer in the air in the library? He laughed, and, letting the door fall shut behind him, jogged up to Hermione. He felt a bit elated with the success of his studying -or, no, he just felt elated in general. Something new. It was very rare that he actually felt this happy. He clapped Hermione's shoulder lightly as he reached her.  
"Thank you for helping me with that confounded essay," he said, grinning. "I must say - I couldn't - and wouldn't - have done it without you!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows, still staring at the wall behind Fred through unfocused eyes and a blank face; then, when he spoke to her, AND clapped her shoulder, jumped slightly and her eyes snapped onto him.  
Her face broke into a weak smile.  
"You're welcome..." She trailed off, still looking dazed and thinking.

Noticing he had disturbed her, Fred withdrew his hand, smiling bemusedly. He was constantly being reminded lately that girls - Hermione, mostly - have the ability to completely change moods at the drop of a hat.  
"Y'alright, Hermione?" he asked curiously. "You look like you just got lost. Pretty hard to do, as we haven't gone very far yet."

Hermione laughed slightly.  
"No.... not lost.. I'm fine. Just a little..." Her left eyebrow raised even higher.  
"Odd." She finished quietly, then shrugged and began up the steps again.  
"I don't know if it is the potion or what... but I've been feeling off color for the past few days. Except when I am around you, of course..."  
Then as soon as she had finished the last sentence, a realization popped in front of Hermione's eyes so clearly, that she could not see how she hadn't spotted it before.  
Did she fancy Fred?

Fred was just about to reply with something casual or obstinately Fred-ish, but suddenly something mentally hit him and the sentence died before it even began. He realized that her sentence could easily describe him as well. He blinked dazedly at her, realizing that in the past few days he had acted about as odd and - un-Fred-ish as physically possible. And if it were possible, he had "broken up" with his twin. Off-color indeed! What was wrong with him? Suddenly he felt distinctly uneasy. He looked at Hermione as if he had only just seen her - it began, he realized, the day that he had followed Hermione out of the library. What could that possibly mean? No - he knew what that meant, despite the fact that it never happened to him before, but he was too utterly stunned to admit it. He had no idea what to say, so he just settled on blinking and staring at Hermione instead until inspiration came upon him.

Hermione paused for a moment, then turned around slowly to face Fred.  
Once or twice, she opened her mouth to say something, but it merely mouthed noiselessly and she ended up closing it again.  
This was different. Different like any feeling before in Hermione's body.  
She felt, comfortable... different... happy around Fred -- and it was beginning to grow past that.  
More than just a laugh. A -like-.  
She actually liked the Fred standing before her.  
No -- fancied. But still, the thought seemed crazy in Hermione's mind. How could it BE?  
It just seemed odd that the one she had once called a hopeless prankster, that had no idea what he wanted in life -- was actually beginning to grow on her.... and past!  
Her brown eyes stared straight into Fred's for several moments, looking hopelessly lost with a slightly confused frowned brow.  
Boy did she feel stupid.  
Until she realized that Fred was staring at her too....

It took him several heartbeats to realize the same thing as Hermione - one, he was looking exceedingly stupid. Two, they had been staring at each other for a very long time. His heart was racing as realization suddenly dawned upon him - how was it possible? That he had feelings for Hermione? For the girl that he had - since just recently - believed to be a slightly dull bookworm? He didn't know - and, frankly, he didn't really care.  
There were quite a few options ahead of him. He could laugh and make some joke - pretend nothing had just happened. He could just simply start walking again and embarrass both himself AND Hermione. Or - well, the last option was at the same time the most logical and - frankly, frightening one of them all. It had the possibility to make him possibly even more foolish that Hermione probably already thought him.  
He took a deep breath, and then built up all of his courage for what he was about to do. He smiled wryly, and then took a small step towards her. He leaned down - right now he hated being tall - and kissed her softly.  
As soon as he did it, panic set in, and he jerked back. He could feel his face growing hot - he gave a sort-of high-pitched, nervous laugh, imagining about a hundred and one reactions he could receive (most of them probably involving a slap of sorts). "S-sorry," he stammered. "I - I have no idea what I...." he trailed off miserably, and eyed her anxiously for a reaction.

Hermione had once been staring at Fred, and him back at her as well for a few piercingly silent moments – then, quicker than before she even knew what was happening – he was kissing her.  
On the lips.  
A blast of mixed feelings exploded inside Hermione like fireworks, shooting by, winding their way through her stomach – which had given a jolt of adrenaline and panic.  
This was – out of the blue.  
This was – so shocking there were no words.  
When he withdrew very quickly, an embarrassed silence fell over the two of them, and left Hermione feeling completely shocked.  
Her face was indescribably blank for a few more moments as she blinked and thought, brown eyes staring up at Fred curiously; the flames from the torches in the hall dancing in them.

It couldn't be....  
No... -- it WAS.  
There was no denying it this time. There could be no ignoring this time.  
Fred actually fancied her. Why else would he just come up and kiss her out of nowhere?  
Did she feel the same? The race of panic now zipping through her stomach told her yes.  
How to react though...  
Her thoughts were somewhere along the line of Fred's. She didn't want to embarrass the both of them by saying anything embarrassing... she certainly didn't want to slap him, for despite the fact that her Hermione instincts told her to, the kiss was actually quite lovely.  
Slowly, very slowly, her face broke into a shy smile and she adjusted her bag on her shoulder – not knowing what on earth she was going to do next, or what Fred was going to do either.  
What should she say? Thank you? No, that would be under the lines of embarrassing.  
Ignore it and march back to the common room? Even more ridiculous.  
Return with a kiss? .... Wouldn't that be embarrassing?  
Wait for Fred to do something? Better.  
Still smiling embarrassedly, she looked up at Fred with her brown eyes once more and kept her hand on her should strap – underneath wanting to scream with joy and panic.

As a few seconds ticked by and he received neither a snap nor a scolding, Fred's panic gradually began to die down. His heart rate returned to a normal level, and he was able to think one thought at a time. He blinked, and watched as Hermione smiled. That - that was a good sign, wasn't it? He hoped so. He smiled nervously, running his hand through his hair once and flashing a grin. He decided that if he had the choice, he would probably prefer to drop dead right then. Though, oddly, he didn't regret what he did in the least bit.  
"So..." he said slowly, cautiously, trying to figure out the most appropriate thing to say. It was amazing to him - most of he and George's peers all had had plenty of experience with kissing, and this was his first. Another testimate to how very few people were able to tolerate the trouble-maker on a personal basis. "Er - you're not going to hit me, then?"

Hermione grinned and bit her lower lip, looking at him with dancing eyes.  
"If you'd like me to, sure..." She said coyly, once more nervously adjusting her bag on her shoulder.  
"But not on my own accord..."  
Her heart rate was not at all normal though. It was still fluttering against her inside, thumping as though she had run a hundred miles – yet this was not a nervous fluttering. It was a surprised, --pleasantly—surprised beating.  
What had just happened in the past five minutes had been frighteningly shocking, and yet nice at the same time. The stunned air still hung, that someone – let alone Fred Weasley!— had kissed her.  
She nodded her head in the direction of the hall, biting her lower lip again.  
"Shall we get back to the common room?"

Fred laughed - his laugh still wasn't -quite- the same timbre as it normally was. He still couldn't believe himself - what had he done? Was he going to regret this? What if George found out? Ron? Anyone in school, really? He really wasn't careful about it - anyone could have been watching them leave the library. If he thought they were receiving a hard time BEFORE -- he realized that he didn't really care. Never did care, actually. His thoughts were running around in nervous circles.  
In response to her question, he glanced once in the direction in which they had been heading - common room. Yes, that was right, they were heading back to the common room. He had forgotten. In fact, in the past few moments he seemed to have forgotten everything - even the fact that he had been studying for hours. He flashed a nervous grin at her and nodded, fidgeting a bit with his bag.  
"Yeah - yeah, sure."

Still with the awkwardness of Fred kissing her in the air, Hermione nervously copied him by shifting her back on her shoulder, and began to saunter slowly down the hall, biting her lip.

Now what was there to say? It was still edgy in the atmosphere, and Hermione's feelings were zipping this way and that, new tidal waves of molten adrenaline coming with every step.

Her head was spinning slightly, but her shy smile remained.

To stir up conversation would be difficult.... But to remain in silence would be embarrassing.

Ineptly, she attempted to bring something to the discussion board – eyes looking ahead. Only three more hallways and two more flights of stairs, then she would be able to fly into the girl's dormitories to think and re-think over what had happened.

Her eyes slowly drifted back to Fred. "So... I guess this means we are going to have a nice remaining year? After, you know..." She shrugged her left shoulder in reference to the kiss, but almost immediately, she winced at her words.

That sounded so –– stupid. And not only stupid, but wrong. Maybe to re-phrase it and tell him what she REALLY meant....and not anything else.

But to rephrase would make her look stupid....

Hermione shook herself mentally. She kept forgetting that when she was around Fred, she didn't need to prove herself in any way. Fred would understand. He was trustworthy on THOSE issues. She had learned that in the past week all too well.

Fred laughed softly. Hermione's question was a bit odd, but he had an idea of what she was meaning to say. He looked at her sidelong, cautiously. Truth was, he had no bloody idea how he was supposed to act now. Was he supposed to return to his normal behavior, or - not? He realized that he had set them up for quite a few awkward silences in the near future, but to him the aftereffects were quite worth the original act, even if they could include a few fights with Ron.  
"I -- don't know," he replied truthfully, glancing upwards and pretending he saw something interesting on the ceiling as he pondered this. The possibilities for the rest of the year were endless and varied. The could, of course, just go back to being friends. Possibly Hermione could go running up to her dormitories, and come back not wanting to speak to him again. Or... not. "I mean... I suppose so. If - you want - yeah."  
That wasn't what he meant. Well, it was, but it didn't come out right. He never was one that was able to master words, but he seemed to have lost the skill altogether. He blinked and looked back at her, faced with the same dilemma and coming to the same conclusion as she did just moments ago.

Hermione looked up quickly. Did Fred mean what she thought he meant? What was he saying? That they should be together? The thought sent a frightened wave of adrenaline over Hermione for the first few seconds, then actually seemed quite nice.  
Her brown eyes lingered around his face curiously for a few moments, and then darted to front.  
They were almost there... she needed to finish the conversation so that she could go running into her dormitory. Not in a bad way, of course, but just to rethink over everything...  
"Well, I... am not sure..." She said awkwardly. What was there to say? "M-maybe...."  
They came up to the fat lady, and Hermione paused, with her hand on her shoulder, holding the strap of her bag.

Another nervous laugh escaped the twin after Hermione's last statement. When they drew up to the Fat Lady, he looked up at her, pondering his next words. He realized that Hermione probably wanted to get away from him as soon as possible to think things through - to tell the truth it sounded quite good to him as well.  
"Well, Hermione," he said, grinning at her. He ran his hand through his hair again, stopping at the back of his neck. It was a gesture of his that was a sure sign that he was unsure of what to do. "I must say that I am completely out of my element here. I... I had a good time today, Hermione," he wasn't sure whether he meant he had a good time studying, or afterwards. Probably both. "And I... thank you for tolerating my presence, and... yeah... what's the password again?"

Hermione cocked her head to the side and turned to the fat lady with a smile on her face.  
"Petrificus Totalus..." She muttered, and the fat lady, after a small nod, swung forward to admit them.  
When Hermione had climbed through, her high spirits were not even dampened by the fact that Ron was in the common room standing near the portrait hole and talking to Harry in a low voice.  
She simply walked right by them, after casting Fred a glance. Her stare however was prolonged, as she plopped her bag down beside an armchair and made to sit in it, but nearly missed, because she was looking at Fred.  
Ron turned from his conversation as she came in, and expression narrowed, almost hawk-like as they entered; but Hermione did not seem fazed even by this. Her embarrassed smile widened and she finally sat in the chair, feet dangling over the edge, and head on the other side, staring into the fire with that uncontrollable grin on her face.  
For some reason, she couldn't go up to the girls dormitories.... For some strange and uncanny reason, she felt the need to be in the presence of Fred and the fire for a little longer.... Before she went up into the dormitories....


	6. An Unexpected Tiff

Fred followed Hermione, snorting at the new password. One of his favorite spells. Came in handy on that blasted cat Mrs. Norris when she got in the way. He felt strangely giddy and light-headed as he followed her, though he was not completely unflustered by the look that Ron sent Hermione. But he was in too much of a good mood to be fazed by this. It was quite easy to look at Hermione almost falling onto the floor rather than at his sour brother. He laughed, dropping down into a chair near her. He was rather mystified by the fact that she was not running away, as he had suspected. So, trying to find a reason to stay in the same room as her without - well, NOT having one, he put his bag on his lap - and then began to tie knots in the strap. Oh, very creative, Fred, he told himself.  
"Y'all right?" he asked, arching an eyebrow as she settled herself back into her armchair. He honestly could not remember Hermione ever falling before - except that time in the lake, but that wasn't due to lack of - grace. Her grin was contagious, so he found himself grinning as well.

Hermione caught Fred's eye and the uncontrollable smile widened. She couldn't help it. She just could NOT stop grinning! The ecstatic girl shrugged, screaming for joy inside, and staring back at the fire with that silly grimace on her face, brown eyes mirthful.  
"Am I alright? What do you think..." She said playfully, twirling a strand of her hair.  
Ron, however, caught the even MORE hinting looks between the two, and scowled.  
THIS is what was going on? Well _this_ was sickening...

Fred snickered.  
"I suppose you're not mortally injured," he teased. He alternated between now trying to disentangle the mess he had made of his strap and ogling at Hermione. He began to wonder why he had never noticed Hermione all that much before. In fact, he wondered why no one else had - her eyes looked so pretty when she was smiling like that! The thought rather embarrassed him, and he began to seriously wonder whether he was going mad or not. He considered telling her, even got out the letter, "I", but then common sense took over and he shook his head, looking back down at his bag. Goodness - he had done a good job on that strap, considering he managed to knot his thumb into it.

Hermione gave what seemed to be an internal giggle, then turned to face the ceiling, and her eyes met Ron's angry glare.  
He had marched over to her chair, arms folded, and raised his eyebrow, staring down at her.  
Her smile faded. "What's wrong, Ron?" She inquired, in a some-what timid voice, yet still defiantly and with the slightest touch of boredom. It was as though she were trying to not care what he thought.  
"I don't know." Ron spat. "You tell me."  
Hermione let out a low sigh and got up, hair falling into her eyes.  
She walked over to a table where Harry sat, with Ron behind her like a hissing goose.  
"I don't know why you continue this, Ron.... We've been through it a thousand times before!" She cried angrily, yet there was a little worry in it.  
"Hmm, let's see...." Ron started loudly. "You move to sixth year, for the reason that you TOLD was me, then I discover that you and Fred have gotten 'real chummy! In fact, so chummy, that I think there might've been something –personal- going on. Even NOW there might be! You two seem very close all of a sudden, smiling, giggling, exchanging glances.... What's the deal, mmm?"

He had had it. Oh, by everything Holy, Unholy, and everything in between, he had absolutely, bloody HAD it with his brother. He rose to his feet and sauntered after he and Hermione, almost trembling with rage. He didn't care what happened after this - even if he alienated himself from his youngest brother to such an extent that in comparison it would look like he and Percy were on friendly terms. He reached forward and grabbed a handful of the back of Ron's robes and yanked him violently backwards. He didn't let him fall, instead dragging him a few feet away from Hermione and pulling him to him until their faces were inches apart.  
"The DEAL," he shouted. "Is none of your damned business!" He even shook him once, he was so angry. He had been asking for this - he had definitely been asking for this for a long time. If Ron had not been his brother, he would have found himself in crutches the first time he crossed this Weasley twin. "You just don't seem to UNDERSTAND, Ron. Even if there were something going on between Hermione and I, it's none of your concern! You don't OWN her. She is perfectly able to do whatever she wants to do, WITHOUT asking your permission to DO it! If you don't want your bloody neck snapped in half, then go sod off!"  
And then, with a last snarl, he bodily threw Ron into the table. He glared after him, breathing rather heavily, though rather with suppressing the urge to carry out with his threat other than any physical exertion.

Ron's eyes had widened when he was grabbed, and during the yell, even frowned and looked at Fred incredulously. . . . but when he was slammed into the table, it was a different story.  
The top half of his body jerked back from hitting the table, and before he even knew what he was doing, he was running angrily straight back into Fred.  
His right fist found Fred's jaw angrily, and the other hit him round the middle, knocking him backwards a few feet.  
"Well it IS my business..." He yelled back, shaking slightly and speaking in a voice that was not remotely his. Even when he spoke, half the time he didn't know what he was saying.  
"If someone I happen to CARE about goes flitting about with my bloody BROTHER for crying out loud, then COMPLETELY leaves me in the DUST, ignoring me as if I am a SLUG or something, and to TOP IT OFF, GETS MAD AT ME FOR WANTING HER TO NOT LEAVE THE YEAR!!!! I think THAT'S a little messed up, that someone pushes a person away when all they do is CARE ABOUT HER!!!"  
As soon as Fred had gotten out of his chair, Hermione looked surprised. Now she looked simply petrified. Her hand had gone to her mouth, and her eyes were wide and staring from one to the next.

Completely flabbergasted that his little brother had managed to fight back, he was momentarily speechless. Fred gaped at Ron with widened eyes, but soon the shock was gone and the smoldering rage returned. He couldn't stop shaking as he recovered from the blow to his midriff that had rendered him breathless. He straightened and stepped back up to his brother, his voice dangerously low and cool, his hands curled into fists at his sides.  
"Well, in my opinion, if you CARE about someone, you shouldn't TREAT them like the bloody MUD stuck to the bottom of your SHOE!"  
Before he could think twice about it, he had hit Ron as hard as he could, at any part of his face he could manage. Being a beater did have its advantages, one of them being his accuracy was dead on and his blows were a force to be reckoned with.

Ron staggered, holding his cheek. Hermione let out a cry. A hot and angry tear fell down her cheek and she threw her hands down by her side, then ran in between them, facing neither one, but the side.  
"Just stop it, stop it right now!!" She cried shrilly. "You two are IDIOTS! I'm not even WORTH that! Don't you see what this is causing??? A fight between BROTHERS? RIDICULOUS! I can't take it anymore if this is going to continue... so this needs to end here and now. If me having feelings for Fred," She cast him a fleeting glance. "Is going to RUIN the relationship between you two, I am going to dump them in the garbage bin, without batting an eyelash. Even if that will be hard since... --" She paused and wrung her hands in frustration. "-- since there are many. But the point is, I don't want this to go further. Ron, you need to accept the fact that I have moved into 6th year. We will still talk... oh... if you get over this problem, I'll probably talk to you MORE, and Fred – you need to realize that Ron has certain problems with things... But, I..." Her steam came to a feeble halt, as her voice trailed off and left her looking miserably at the two.  
"I don't want to be the cause of your fight." She ended quietly. "And neither do I want to be the cause of hatred between you two. Because, -- in different senses for each --... I love you both."

Fred did not speak right away. He was obviously surprised by Hermione's reaction, and a bit scandalized. His hot temper was most definitely a Weasley trait, visible in every member in the red-headed family, from Ginny to his own father, as Arthur had exhibited while getting into a tussle with Lucius Malfoy some years back. It always took a bit of sense to be knocked into their heads from someone else to calm them down. Hermione's tirade fit the bill beautifully. As he listened to her have her say, he began to feel sick, or hurt, or - something. He was beginning to feel that this whole situation was quite unfair, and he wasn't sure whether he had the urge to punch something or run away, or, possibly, just stay where he was. The thing was, he just couldn't stand the fact that his brother was making his life miserable because he had feelings for Hermione. Yes, he had feelings for her, considerable ones as well, or else he wouldn't be standing there at all. Ron had as much right to make him miserable as - as Neville Longbottom did!

"Her - Hermione," he stammered, looking from the bushy-haired girl to Ron. When he saw his brother his fingers twitched, remembering the feeling of hitting him moments ago - his knuckles were still sore. He honestly didn't know how to reply to her last statement. He moistened his lips once and looked away from his brother. "Listen, Hermione - this - this is not your fault. I - I still love Ron, as much of a GIT as he is," he turned his eyes on Ron regretfully. "You're still my brother, Ron, but you have to - to straighten some things out... I - like her, mate," he muttered miserably, shrugging and looking nervously at Hermione. "I like her a lot. I'm sorry. I - don't know what else to say to you."  
He really didn't know what else to say. He was angry and a bit confused, and he didn't know how to resolve the two feelings with each other, leaving him even more flustered than before.

Ron sighed resentfully, and rubbed his face. This was a lot to take in, for he did – as Hermione said earlier in the year – have the emotional range of a teaspoon.  
Yet now he seemed to have made an exception and widened his range of emotional capacity, and sighed more, fixing tired and sad eyes on Hermione, then Fred.  
Hermione had been looking at the both of them uneasily during Fred's speech, and when he said that he liked her, went pink in the face and began to bite her lower lip again, the corner of her mouth twitching from holding back a smile.  
Ron was staring at the ground past Fred, and muttered, "Sorry, mate... got carried away."  
Hermione did not know if this was a plausible and good enough apology for Fred, but didn't care. Right now – everything was at a cool stand off, and she did not want things to get heated up again. She settled for scooting the slightest fraction of an inch towards Fred, still peering anxiously at the both of them.

Fred frowned a bit, part of him wanting to still be angry at Ron and part of him willing to forgive the little git. He looked at Hermione, knowing very well which direction she would rather him lean towards. In a few moments was able to make up his mind. He let out a deep sigh and crossed his arms over his chest, a ghost of a smile flickering over his face once more. There was really no choice to the matter. It was not as if he could come back and say - 'Well, you should have thought of saying that sooner!' or something of the sort after what he said earlier. Plus he was rather impressed - though he probably would have rathered him on his knees, begging for forgiveness, even that simple apology was more than he had ever heard from Ron. He nodded in reply, letting his hands fall loosely at his sides.  
"S'alright," he muttered, and then lifted his eyebrows at Hermione, silently asking her if she were pleased - he was rather amazed at the power she seemed to hold over both the brothers.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief, then folded her arms and walked over to the fire.  
The flickering flames danced inside her soft brown eyes as she watched the glow that crackled merrily in the hearth, eyes unfocused and blank.  
For a few moments, Ron looked relieved too, then a small grin twitched its way onto his features. This was going to be difficult inside, but outside it wouldn't look too odd.  
"So, you really do like her, mate, don't you." He said quietly, for Hermione not to hear.  
He folded his arms as well and was grinning at Fred cheekily.

His eyes turned in Hermione's direction, having watched her walk away, he didn't have to look at Ron to know he was attempting to grin in some way. The visual was enough to make him smirk. He nodded, thrusting his hands into his robe pockets and turning a keen eye in his younger brother's direction.  
"Yeah," he said slowly. "I do."  
He wondered if Ron would ever really get over this. True, he was an impulsive prat - talk about the pot calling the kettle black, mused Fred - but if he really did care for Hermione as he said he did, could he ever set well with his brother if Fred refused to let go of his feelings for Hermione? Really, he hoped so, for as much as he hated to admit it, Fred really didn't enjoy fighting with his brothers.

Ron's grin widened into a smirk as he watched his brother stare from Hermione, to avoiding his gaze. It was quite apparent how mad he was about her, and this shocked Ron to the core inside. His older brother, not JUST his older brother but FRED Weasley, the prankster, the joker, the one who wanted to own his own joke-shop, fell for his best friend -- the academic. What puzzled him even more, was the fact that is was such an odd attraction. Hermione studious, Fred not.  
SO not studious, he was the blatant opposite. Carefree and didn't give two hoots about studying, when Hermione cared more about getting expelled than death!  
How on earth could Fred fall for her? They were so – different! And Fred had done nothing but tell Ron and anyone who would listen that Hermione studied too much... what had changed?  
Hermione, maybe. Ron nodded to himself inside. Hermione could have changed, but she seemed alright to HIM.  
Could it be that she was different around Fred than she was around Ron?  
Nah... impossible. His gaze shifted over to the back of Hermione's figure, staring at the fire.  
Maybe it was true... maybe she DID seem a –tad– different lately...  
Come to think of it, she had once even stopped holding her book bag! Peculiar indeed...

But why did this bother him so much? Ron began to address the situation to himself. What DID make him so angry that Hermione felt good around Fred and was beginning to have feelings for him?  
Was it hatred towards his brother? No... Was it hatred towards her? Absolutely not...  
And then a tiny voice in the back of his head spoke one word: Jealousy.  
His eyes narrowed. Could he be jealous...? The question was asked feebly in the back of his mind, with not much enthusiasm.  
Maybe...  
Ron suddenly realized he hadn't spoken for awhile, and looked back at Fred, putting on his grin once more. "So, anything else going to happen between... you and her?"

Fred finally turned away from the brooding Hermione and looked fully at his brother, smiling weakly at him as he did so. After the many events of that day, he was beginning to wonder if it would ever end. And frankly, it would take quite a lot to surprise him - he wouldn't blink an eyelash if he turned around and saw Dean Thomas and Harry snogging in a corner.  
"I don't know," he said honestly - he really didn't know. Hermione had - in so many words - asked him the same thing not long ago. It was all so new to him - he hadn't even LIKED a girl before Hermione. And now he was faced with so many decision and choices. "Yeah... no... well, I hope so..."  
He trailed off, grinning a little nervously. He changed the subject by lightly touching his jaw, cocking an eyebrow exaggeratedly at Ron.  
"Well? Care to tell me who taught you to punch like that? Last I knew, Ginny could knock you to the ground in three seconds flat..."

Ron chuckled as Hermione sat down in a chair and rubbed the side of her face.  
"Well, you've got one hell of a right hook as well, so you shouldn't be the one to complain..." He massaged his cheek as well, where it had turned red.  
"Who knew it would end up in a boxing match over Hermione..." He paused and realized it made him sound as if HE had feelings for Hermione, which he didn't.... at least, thought he didn't....  
"I mean, not in THAT way..." He added hastily, then sighed. "So you going to get her anything for Christmas?"  
He cast a meaningful look at the back of Hermione's brown head and his smirk widened.

Also glancing at Hermione, Fred considered this. Yet another question that he had not even thought of before - ai, having feelings for someone was much more complicated than he would have thought. He snorted with laughter from amusement at his own naivety.  
"Yeah, I suppose so," he said, nodding.  
Ah - this should be interesting, he thought. Whatever was he going to get her? A book - he tried to imagine himself daring to walk into a bookstore. The thought was frightening - possibly even more frightening than studying had been. He shifted uncomfortably, and then banished the thought from his mind. When the time came - he would have to do what he had to do. After coming to grips with this, he grinned at Ron, and countered, "You?"

Ron shrugged and stared after Hermione.  
"Don't know what I will... probably a study kit or something..." His voice drifted off, though, as Hermione got up from the chair at stretched in the warmth of the fire, brown eyes closing, then opening on Ron and Fred.  
"I think I'm going to go take a nap..." She said with a small yawn, checking the clock.  
3:30. It had been a nice day of studying, kissing, and yelling, and now she needed to go sort out the million half formed thoughts racing around in her head.  
"Will I see you around dinnertime?" She added towards Fred, walking over and picking up her book bag.  
Ron sighed quietly.

Still nodding to what his brother had said to him, Fred directed his attention back to Hermione once more - it was amazing he did not develop a crick in his neck from switching his gaze between her and Ron almost every other second. He cracked a small grin. He had never really taken a nap - unless he was pretty darn ill - because he seemed to have a mental block to such things, almost like studying. Though, he could see where the idea would appeal to Hermione. Personally, he was shocked that it was as early as it was - he would have sworn on his life that it was approaching 7 or 8 o'clock.  
"Yeah," he said. "Sure."

Hermione slung her bag over her shoulder slowly, then walked over and briskly gave Fred a hug and a kiss on the cheek.  
After this, her cheeks tinged pink and she hurried up the stairs, brown hair whipping out of sight.  
Ron gave a slow sigh and turned to Fred.  
"You really are going to get her a BOOK?" He asked incredulously, putting his hands in his pockets as well. "Gee, mate, I would've thought since you fancy her it'd be a bit more.... Well – nice."

Gazing after Hermione, a bit surprised by the unexpected kiss, he at first didn't pay attention to Ron. Then he realized he was being spoken to and running the past few seconds in his head, and turned a slightly embarrassed grin towards his brother.  
"Nah," he said, shrugging a bit. "I'll get her something nice - I just - have no idea what yet."  
He thought. When he first thought of things Hermione liked - obviously, he thought of books. But that was what he thought Hermione liked before he really took the time to get to know her. What did girls like? He immediately thought of flowers, teddy bears and pink - fluffy things. But he was willing to bet money that none of that appealed to Hermione. Then suddenly it hit him - he brightened considerably.  
"I know," he said, grinning. "Quidditch! I'll get her something - quidditchy." He was rather pleased at himself - why had he not thought of it before?

Ron was still looking at him awkwardly, but then grinned and rammed his shoulder playfully. "Bit new to this girl stuff, aren't you Fred? Don't blame you... girls do some pretty mad things..."  
He failed to stifle a large yawn, stretched, and then sauntered over to the steps that lead to the boys dormitories. "I think I'll pull a Hermione and go take a nap too..." After smirking, he disappeared up the steps.

Fred smirked, and then aimed a teasing clout to Ron's head but missed.  
"Understatement of the century, dear brother," he replied. "Enjoy your nap, see you later then."  
As he stood, watching Ron go, he suddenly wondered what on earth he was going to do himself for the next couple of hours. Lost, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and cast an anxious look about him. He wished now George were speaking to him - now he had no one but himself to talk about the events of the day so far with. He scratched his head, and sighed, and then walked over to grab his bag. Perhaps he could just go up to the dormitories and - sit on his bed, watching the wall for a few hours. Yeah, that sounded nice. Say, he might even find George there, though he doubted it - he probably left ages ago to pull some sort of joke-shop business.

Hermione ripped back the curtains of her four poster bed, and flopped down into it, positively squealing with joy.  
Everything that had happened in the day had been shocking, exciting, overjoying, angering... and another three thousand feelings after that.  
Her stomach still had strikes of adrenaline zipping through it, making her heart race in a different pattern each time -- and she fixed her brown eyes on the bottom of the bed above her.  
Fred had kissed her.  
Fred fancied her.  
Fred even punched Ron because he refused to not like her.  
These thoughts seemed so far from true, (even though she knew they were) and so unbelievably SHOCKING to Hermione, the one who had never had someone like her ever, that she turned over onto her stomach, buried her face in her pillow, and let out a joyous squeal, not caring if it was loud -- the pillow was taking in a very loud scream of happiness.

Fred drifted into the dormitory, and he was not very surprised to find it devoid of any kind of life. He simply dropped his bag in front of the door and walked over to his bed, and after pulling the curtains back he promptly just dropped onto it. He rolled slowly onto his bed, folding his hands under his head and letting one of his legs dangle off the side of the mattress.  
He had no idea what to feel. More emotions and feelings were bubbling up inside of him than he had ever felt his whole life - let alone at the same time. Being distinct fully Fredish as he was, he was used to paying attention to one good feeling at a time, one situation at a time, one thought at a time. But now, he was forced to let that philosophy fly to the four winds and cope with the barrage of thoughts forcing to drown him.

First, he still hadn't gotten over the shock of the whole thing. It had a numbing, calming effect that made him wonder if any of this had even happened at all. Second, he felt nervous and apprehensive. He had stepped into a territory he knew absolutely nothing about, and was almost certain that he had received too much of a good thing that day. And finally, he felt excited, and a bit giddy. He had kissed Hermione! He laughed, and then disengaged a hand from the back of his head to place it over his eyes. He actually KISSED Hermione.  
Merlin's beard - he didn't know what it was about her, but she made him do the most - outrageous things. He grinned, and sat up, and then laid back down again, and then rolled onto his stomach. He definitely did not feel like lying down - he felt like getting up and - running about and yelling or something. Or not. He had no idea - he wondered if liking a girl could possibly always be so confusing.

Hermione's feelings were very similar to Fred's, only with more doubt rather than giddiness.  
If someone – ANYONE – found out, then Fred and she would be the laughing stock of the whole school. That the two most contradictory people ever known to mankind – had feelings for one another.  
This brought Hermione to her second thought.  
What now?  
What was the next step after the kiss between the two?  
Would they become an official item? Boyfriend and girlfriend, like Percy and Penelope?  
Hermione scowled. Certainly not like those two... for despite the fact that Penelope was probably a sweet girl... most everyone in the school, except for Hermione, hated to listen to Percy talk on and on, and Hermione loved talking to Fred. She rather enjoyed the intellectual comparison between Percy and her, yet she was sure that she was the only one to understand him and his complicated babble.  
But there was sure to be awkwardness in a relationship... Hermione continued, turning over on her back at once more staring at the bottom of the bed.  
Unless Fred totally fell head over heels for her, then there would be no discomfiture, but she was sure it was only a mild crush...  
Or was it?  
Hermione had never before in her LIFE thought about things like love, and romantic relationships, so she really had no idea what to do, say, or how to handle any of this.  
This was her first, real... what to call it... -- relationship? Romantic interest. There, that was better.

In a few minutes, Fred showed his lack of tolerance for staying still for an unnecessarily long amount of time by rolling off of his bed, getting to his feet, and then beginning to pace. As if he and Hermione had developed some sort of psychic mental connection, his thoughts were turning in the same direction as hers. He knew very well what would happen if anyone found out about them - but he really did not care. Everyone's always thought him odd and someone to laugh at. But he knew Hermione would not appreciate it. He felt troubled. What if they DID find out? Would Hermione leave him in the dust rather than ignore them?  
He also was thinking about what happened next. If - IF - they ever became... a couple... what if things just didn't work out? It was true, Hermione and he were polar opposites. Though the old saying that opposites attracted seemed to have been proven true thus far, what if their differences got so obvious that Hermione got fed up with trying to put up with him? He stopped pacing, biting his lip in thought. Or, what if Hermione didn't really even like him at all, and was just humoring him? What if she felt bad for him for never really having feelings for a boy before and wanted to let him down gently?  
Realizing that the more he paced and thought, the more worked up he became, Fred walked back to his bed and sat down, running a nervous hand through his hair. He sighed, and almost laughed - all this over one kiss and a tussle with his brother. He wondered how more people did not have nervous breakdowns when they first began encroaching upon the world of relationships and love.


	7. Breaking the News

Hermione's mind was already pushed to the rim with worries, thoughts, and feelings – and by the time she finished sorting the majority of them out, it was nearly 7:00.  
Gracious, the time flew when one was occupied... she thought as she adjusted her long black robes and pulled her hair into a loose ponytail.  
Before leaving, she reached to get her bag – mind still with Fred and the kiss – then paused. Did she really need to bring her bag? Why not just – leave it, and forget about books for awhile?  
Suddenly, her ears perked at the sound of Ron's voice in the common room down the steps, and she immediately seized her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. What sort of torture would Ron give her if he saw her without her BAG?  
Everything that was taunting and teasing imaginable, so she sighed heavily and proceeded down the steps into the common room, then through the portrait hole.

Ron had spotted her and had half the mind to go chasing after her and join his best friend down to dinner, but Harry wasn't ready yet so he would wait for him instead of bothering her more.  
Hermione proceeded down the stone hallway, and down the moving staircases without a word spoken to her, but when she reached the great hall, an excited buzz seemed to have filled it, one unlike any other she had head before.  
She paused slowly with a frown when she entered, for quite a few heads had turned in her direction as she entered, and the talk became louder in harsher whispers.  
Terror fear and dread filled Hermione like plunging into a cold pool.  
Did this have to do with the kiss? Very slowly and cautiously, she walked down through the tables and settled herself at a whisperer-devoid spot near the end up near the teacher's tables, and pulled a plate of food towards her skeptically.  
The weather outside the stained glass windows of the great hall was quite wintery indeed.  
The snow was now billowing down in great bushels, covering the grounds and making even Hogsmeade look like a Christmas card.  
The snow was building up on the long, skeletal fingers of the bony trees, and clouds were always swarming the sky, casting an eerie effect over the lake and grounds.

Fred emerged from the boys' dormitories a few minutes later, looking decidedly ruffled and bedraggled from the hours of pure thinking he had gone through - he had considered just sticking to the common room for the rest of the day, but eventually hunger got the better of him. He gave Ron and Harry a smile, and then with a sweeping, somewhat vain glance about the common room in search of George he sighed and went the same route Hermione took a while ago.

George watched a bit coolly as Hermione sat down across from him. He narrowed his eyes a bit, and immediately began to look over her shoulder in search of his brother. It was par for the course lately. It seemed Fred much preferred the company of Hermione rather than his own twin. He hadn't even attempted an apology. George sighed to himself, knowing he was bit hard on his brother. But he was still mad at him for not really telling him what happened that day at the Ball. He tried to ignore Hermione for a while - though perhaps he was not hopping mad as he was before, he didn't feel like speaking with the "enemy". But eventually curiosity got the better of him.  
"Well?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at Hermione at last and giving up all attempts to continue eating his meal. "Where's Fred? Is he not following you?"  
His tone wasn't overly bitter - he had seen the way Ron was treating Hermione lately, and didn't want to be a mirror image of his younger sibling. He wasn't angry at Hermione, more at Fred. But like it or not, she was stuck in the middle. Besides - he wanted to know where Fred was. She - likely as not - probably had a better idea of his where-abouts than most at the moment.

Hermione looked up, quite surprised that George was right in front of her.  
She hadn't even seen him when she entered – odd... as the bright haired one wasn't difficult to miss.  
Her eyes widened and she picked up her fork uncertainly. "Actually I have no idea where Fred is..." She said blankly, staring at him with unease.  
"Why?"  
Then she remembered something her thoughts had brought to the table a week ago... something she needed to talk to George about....

George shrugged slightly, turning his eyes downwards again. He felt a bit flustered. Well, if Fred was not with Hermione, where WAS he? He suddenly realized that he rather hated not being in speaking terms with his brother. It was ridiculous! They were twins. And, really, conversation with Lee Jordan and their other friends really wasn't the same as plotting with his brother.  
"I dunno," he said lightly, in reply to her question. "Just wanted to know where he was, I suppose..."  
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He was bored. He could hardly sit through dinner without throwing something at somebody or sabotaging someone's food, but he didn't have the heart to do it without Fred.  
Deciding to make some small talk, he said, "What are you up to? All of your usual shadows seemed to have dispersed."

Hermione pushed right past and ignored the question, and instead timidly put her elbows on the long wooden table, and looked downwards.  
"George -- I really need to talk to you about something..." She began slowly, as if choosing her words carefully.  
She brushed some long hair out of her eyes, and continued to look straight past George, downwards.

George cocked an eyebrow at her, wondering what Hermione could possibly talk to HIM about. He searched his memory. No, nobody ever really came to him or Fred with anything of importance or seriousness.  
"Sure," he said, motioning for her to continue, feeling a bit curious despite himself. He reached for his goblet and swirled its contents a bit. "Shoot."

Hermione took a small breath, then folded her hands and frowned slightly, still avoiding his gaze.  
How to put this... oh this would be difficult... maybe to just go straight to the point?  
Maybe...  
"I – need to sort out, how... w-well how this whole... --" She sighed again and rubbed the side of her face, looking at him now.  
"You do, KNOW, don't you? About me and Fred?" Her eyebrow raised inquiringly.

George gazed blankly at her.  
"Know - about what?" he asked cautiously.  
Something odd struck him. "Me and Fred". Since when did Hermione and Fred become - well, "Hermione and Fred". It was almost like saying, say, "Fred and George". Feeling a bit nervous and apprehensive, he narrowed his eyes at her, as if ready to hear and scrutinize whatever would be told to him next.

Hermione's face looked quite painful. "Well, we're – sort of – together..." She muttered, and it trailed into an uneasy grimace. This was going to be very difficult.  
Breaking the news to Fred's twin, and then pummeling him with the subject AFTER the first harsh blow? They were in for a talk and a half... and she had told Fred to meet her there!  
Bad bad bad.. well – she supposed she would send Fred off politely if he wanted to sit with them. Tell him that they needed to talk, not to worry, and they would see each other lately. Excellent. Perfect.  
She was doomed.

The Weasley twin stared at her.  
"Together?" he repeated, his voice adopting an incredulous tone.  
Hermione. And Fred. Together - it seemed impossible! George knew - Fred had never even shown the most remotest of interests in those of the female race! It was a thing unheard of. Could this be true?  
He got to thinking.  
Well, Hermione was the only one that he really showed any desire to take to the Ball. He hadn't even given a second thought to Angelina, who in all truth had rather looked forward to going with Fred again. And - huh. The more he thought of it, the more he realized that Fred was acting completely unlike himself and behaving like an arshe lately. What Hermione was telling him could possibly be the last piece to the puzzle that was his brother.  
"-Together-?" he said again, but his voice a bit weaker this time as realization sunk in.

A wince passed over Hermione's face, and she bit her lip anxiously with a slight nod.  
"I had no idea you didn't know..." She said quietly, then added, "But that's what I wanted to talk to you about..."  
Inside, her thoughts were writhing to dig a hole and crawl into it. This was so embarrassing – admitting this to Fred's own twin brother – as if it were illegal or something!  
This brought Hermione to another conception. Why was she ashamed to talk about her and Fred? There was nothing to be shy about! But her feelings on the outside of her burning pink face told her that it was an issue.... To talk about this.  
Well, it was quite new to her...

George sighed. No, he hadn't known. How could he know, if he and Fred hadn't been speaking? Or did she now know that? Now he looked nervously at Hermione, nodding a bit hesitantly for her to go on.  
He still had no idea what she wanted to talk to him about - if it had something to do with - he winced just to think of the concept - Hermione and Fred, he could not see how he could be of any help. Did she want advice? Did she simply want to make sure he wouldn't pronounce war upon them if - since they've become... "together"?  
The thought made him depressed. Now he regretted not talking to Fred. It seemed his brother was able to act completely normally and make major decisions by himself, without him. And - well, George couldn't. Well, more accurately, wouldn't.

Hermione took a small breath, then exhaled and folded her hands. This was going to be awkward.  
"I want to make sure that me and Fred, is not going to – well, ruin, your relationship with him... because he's still the same, and he is still your twin – just, with, new.... feelings. That's all..."  
She paused and realized how stupid she sounded – her, the one who Fred had fallen for, was talking to his TWIN about the relationship.  
"And I don't want to be the cause of any troubles... as I already have between Ron and him...."

George cocked an eyebrow at her, a rather weak version of his usual incredulous gesture. Well, at least he wasn't surprised by the fact that Fred and Ron were fighting. He knew that for a while - he thought he heard them having a tussle a while ago, but he stayed clear of them, wanting nothing to do with it.  
He thought. Was he going to let Hermione ruin his relationship with Fred? His twin?  
"Nah..." he said slowly, shaking his head and even smirking a bit. He averted his eyes to the side, watching the students mulling about. "... It'll take a bit more than you to ruin our- er - relationship. We ARE twins, after all. I..."  
He trailed off, for suddenly he caught sight of his brother entering the great hall.  
Fred wandered in, temporarily lost in the sea of whispering and tittering students. He nervously shied away from the said students, wondering whatever got them into a tizzy, and looked about for a safe place to sit. That was when he saw the suspicious sight of George and Hermione near the end of the table. He hesitated, wondering anxiously what those two could possibly be talking about. He guessed the answer and definitely did not like it. He made his way over to them, elbowing past a student that seemed to think he was invisible.  
"Hullo," he said once he stopped, a yard or two away from where George sat on his side of the table. "What's up?"

Hermione jumped when Fred had spoken, and turned to him with a rather weak smile.  
"Nothing... but, erm, could you come back later?" She cast a meaningful nod towards George, hinting something that she HOPED Fred would understand.  
"It's just something private, that's all..." She bit her bottom lip again in unease.

Fred gazed at her, feeling a great deal put off. She was sending him away? Like an unwanted visitor? He looked from George to Hermione, now understanding perfectly well what was going on. They were talking about him, and they didn't want him to be there to hear it. And - she chose to speak to his -twin-, no less! He set his jaw - he could only imagine what George thought of the whole ordeal. Undoubtedly he would make his life miserable now.  
"Fine," he said quietly, beginning to back away, trying not to sound a bit hurt. "See you later, then."  
Then he turned, and began walking away, seeking a place to sit somewhere else, preferably out of earshot.

Hermione winced and nearly called out after Fred – feeling a large amount of guilt weighing down on her chest. Now Fred thought she didn't want to speak to him!  
When that was far from the truth!  
She sighed and turned back to George, running her hand limply over her cheek and staring at him miserably. "Anyways, I really hope you mean it, because now I need to ask you a favor. A huge, really, really important favor that you cannot mess up." Her eyes turned to pleading as she took a deep breath and folded her hands, then put them up near her chin.

George half-rose from his seat as he watched Fred go, having half a mind to go after him. But, he realized that he really didn't have any idea what to say. He was still a bit confused over the whole situation himself, and he decided that Fred was mature enough - he almost laughed at himself - to figure out things himself without having a tizzy. So he sat back down, looking at Hermione with a slightly flustered expression.  
"... What is it?" he asked warily, wondering what on earth she would want him to do.  
He didn't even have the heart to make some sort of smart come-back about "messing it up". So instead he convinced himself to remain serious for the moment.

Hermione bit her lip uncertainly, then looked straight at him.  
"I need you to not laugh, mock, jaunt, jeer, annoy, or tease Fred about this." Her voice was pleading, and her eyes really looked it. "If you do, it'll be terribly awkward, and embarrassing to the both of us, considering – we're... new to it and all...so, c-could you? Not, I mean?"

Believing he had heard wrong, it took George quite a few heartbeats to react.  
She wanted him not to tease his brother?  
He gaped at her. Could that possibly be right?  
"You... do not want me to pester Fred about this?" he asked, his tone low and laced with disbelief. "Hermione, I - do you realize..." he trailed off, thinking of the possibilities. "Hermione - what you are asking... you might as well be asking the sun not to shine. The - rain not to fall the... nifflers not to niff."  
That last sentence didn't really make sense, but it fit, so he used it regardless. He ran a hand nervously through his hair and shot a look in the direction of his retreating brother, torn.

"I don't mean on EVERYTHING..." Hermione added hastily, eyes widening. "Just on this subject – for awhile, you know? Maybe just for the first week while everything... kind of, sorts out... while – well, while he's getting used to it." She paused and realized that sentence could easily explain her feelings too, for –she– was getting used to this whole new relationship thing as well. The brown haired girl decided to state it simply. "Can you just not tease him about me and him being together for at least the first week so we can get used to it without being embarrassed?" The sentence slipped out of her mouth so fast, she would've thought she'd taken a Babbling Beverage. Boy did she sound ridiculous, and probably even more so to George.

The twin let out a long, drawn-out sigh. He looked down at his hands, anxiously drumming his fingers against the edge of the table. The thing was, he and Fred didn't normally waste their teasing powers upon each other. He probably would not have said anything anyway - or, at least, nothing drastic - if Hermione did not ask him. But he didn't know what he thought about this, being given a specific request for good behavior. If it were anyone else asking him this, chances were he would have outright refused and turned around to make Fred's life miserable. But as it was, he had a good deal of respect for Hermione - even if he did not maybe look at her the same way his brother did - and so was able to consent.  
"Alright," he said with a reluctant nod, narrowing his eyes a bit at her. "I suppose I can hold off teasing him for a while. It will be difficult, but I think I can manage..."

Hermione let out a sigh of relieve a tad smaller than George's, and smiled rather weakly.  
"Thank you so much..." She said, smiling at him in a rather smirkish way. "That will make things, so much easier..."   
She slowly got out from behind the bench under the table, and slung her bag around her shoulder. "Oh I cannot thank you enough, George... thank-you thank-you thank-you..." With a grin, she turned and sped down the tables, looking around eagerly for Fred.

George watched Hermione scamper away with an amused grin, wondering how on earth he would be able to resist the temptation and keep his promise after all of this hullabaloo. He shook his head and turned back to his meal, planning to go corner Fred later that night after she was done with him.  
  
Meanwhile, the other Weasley twin was sitting at on the other side of the table, eating - or, well, more accurately picking at his food and turning over the many events of the day, occasionally sending uneasy looks in Hermione and George's direction. He could just see them around the heads of the other Gryffindor students.  
After a few minutes he wasn't so ruffled any more, but was still overtly suspicious and anxious. He definitely did not like the thought of being spoken of behind his back - or, well, blatantly right in front of him without knowing what was being said.  
He was glancing that way when he saw Hermione leave, and begin looking for him. He placed down his fork and leaned back a bit, wondering whether to wave her over or just let her find him to make things a bit more difficult. He decided on the latter.

With a small sigh, Hermione continued to peer around the great hall, and when she saw the slightly hunched orange haired figure, walked slowly over to him, head cocked to the side uncertainly. Exactly WHAT did Fred suspect of George and Hermione... and what was he worried about? Surely he knew that this was coming? That if they were to get into a relationship, questions and catches would apply?  
She sat down opposite him and cautiously set her bag on the seat, before pulling a dish towards her and staring at him. "Something the matter, Fred?"

Fred lifted his eyes to her, raising his eyebrows a bit at her expression. He thought over his reply. Was something the matter? No, not really, except for the fact that he did not like Hermione going to talk to his brother - well, about him - or them - at least. He tried to look at it from Hermione's point of view - he must be looking childish. Nothing new, to be sure. What if he went to Harry and asked him the same she must have asked George? Would she feel all annoyed or embarrassed? Probably not.  
"No," he said cautiously. He glanced in George's direction. "I suppose not. Eh - what were you two talking about, anyway?"

Hermione grimaced and picked up her fork, eyes darting to some rude whispering students behind Fred, and back.  
"What were we... ? -- Well, I kind of needed to just ask George a favor, that's all... It was nothing too -- well... " She paused and thought how best to phrase this -- she didn't want Fred taking offense at anything, or taking anything the wrong way. Certainly not.  
"It wasn't anything that you need to be worried about..." She said softly, playing with her food a bit and stirring her fork around.

Fred gazed at her with a disbelieving look, but decided not to pursue the matter - if he had to, he could weasel it out of George later. Besides, he didn't exactly look forward to having an argument with Hermione so soon, and he supposed he trusted her enough not to have made a fool of him in front of his brother.  
"Alright," he said with a sigh.  
He too heard the rude students behind him, and at the moment it was not reacting well with his already frayed nerves. He turned around in his seat to glare at them.  
"Whatever got them all into a tizzy?" he demanded to no one in particular, but probably Hermione, since she was the one he had been conversing with anyway.

Hermione grimaced. "I don't know, but according to all the whispers and points in our direction -- it's about us."  
She really didn't know how to take this -- for being in this situation of a relationship, and then the fear of people teasing her, she had never known. This was her first -- and probably Fred's first as well.  
But what if they DID know about the kiss?  
Was that the cause of all the whispering?  
What should she do? Bring it up with Fred? Or wait for him to respond?  
She decided on the latter.

"Us?" Fred repeated, straightening once more and turning his back on the whisperers to look at her with a slightly scandalized look. "Why on earth would they be talking about us?"  
His thoughts were running along the same lines as Hermione's. DID they know? How did they know, if the did? Had anyone been watching them? If so, who?  
His first thought was to turn around and toss the nearest bunch of twits across the table, but not everything could be settled with violence or intimidation - he had to admit it.

Hermione bit her lip again and rested her cheek on her upstanding hand, still stirring her food uneasily.  
"Well I would think THAT'S a little obvious Fred.... It would be nice --" She added loudly to the kids behind Fred, scowling at them. " -- if you took a photograph. Then it might last longer."

Fred couldn't help but smirk - it was always worth his while to see Hermione in a fluster, though he did sympathize with her - as he was one of the victims to the "innocent titters".  
"You know," he said thoughtfully, stabbing a piece of meat on his fork. "It's what they want - they'll probably get bored after a while if you don't give them reason to make our lives miserable. Besides --" he chuckled. "--if all goes well, they'll be able to talk about another couple soon. A toad and a snake should be more interesting than us, eh?"

This did seem to brighten Hermione's mood slightly, as she smiled and took a small bite of her food.  
"I suppose..." She agreed quietly, swallowing and taking a sip of her goblet.  
"But we need to get the ingredients soon... -- maybe I'll ask Harry to borrow his cloak today so we can sneak in and get Most Potente Potions.... I wonder where he is?"  
Craning her neck up to look in the hall, Hermione discovered no Harry, but only more eager eyes and snickering whispers ahead.  
She slunk back down and stirred her food miserably again.

"I don't know," Fred said, also taking a quick look about him. "He and Ron were up in the common room before, I think. Plotting something no doubt..."  
He didn't like seeing Hermione being made so miserable by the tittering and yammering students. He wondered whether it would be worth it, making a scene - probably not. It would only bring more attention to themselves, and would only egg them on in the end. Also it would be admitting that their gossip had merit - and though he wasn't denying anything, it wouldn't do for the whole school to have a hay-day on his and Hermione's behalf. No, he would have to wait to have his revenge. But when the time came, it would be well worth it, he assured himself.  
"But, yeah," he said, brightening. "You should ask him. Couldn't hurt, hmm?"

Hermione returned with a nod, and blew some air out of her mouth slowly, head still rested on her upstanding hand.  
At that moment, two heads entered the bustle and buzz of the great hall and its many twinkling candles up above.  
A slightly taller red-head and a jet black head... though Hermione did not notice, for her brown eyes were trailing unhappily over her plate of food – which she had suddenly lost all appetite for, in the process of hearing the phrase, "I know, I can't believe he kissed her either! I mean, who on earth would fall for someone like HER?" from her right, and from directly behind her, "I thought they hated each other! And since when did Fred like studying?"  
Hermione had half a mind to turn right around and tell all the idiots behind her to shut their gobs about it – for it really wasn't their right to go nosing about - but Fred and Hermione's own personal business, yet decided it was better not to.  
She and Fred needed all the privacy they could get at the moment.  
Ron and Harry made their way through the hundreds of students and the crammed bodies around the tables, all scavenging for food, and sat themselves a few large people down from Hermione.

Fred wondered if it was possible to remain oblivious to the comments for so long, as they were becoming brasher and brasher. He wondered if he would be able to pull of walking down the aisle, pushing every student as he went down the rows into their food, claiming it was an accident. Just as he was contemplating the pros and cons of this endeavor, Fred saw Ron and Harry approaching, and gestured towards them for Hermione's benefit.  
"Speaking of the devils..." he smiled. "Well, I suppose I now how Harry feels now, eh? He's always having things whispered about him."

Hermione gave Fred a wry smile, then, as if just realizing they had actually entered, jumped up to her feet. After giving one of the particularly loud students a glare, (she wasn't about to push them like Fred certainly would), walked over to Harry and tapped him on the shoulder.  
Almost immediately, Harry looked up, astonished, then raised his eyebrows at Ron, who scooted aside so Hermione could fit in between them.  
She did this, and after sighing slightly, turned to Harry, trying to ignore the whispers.  
There were a few moments as Ron eagerly listened, trying to catch what Hermione was muttering to Harry, and after he had nearly fallen off the seat – realized that Hermione had stopped whispering.  
Harry did not even bat an eye. "Er, sure Hermione." He said blankly, and Ron took a bite of his mashed potatoes silently. "When d'you need it?"  
"How soon can I get it?" she replied quickly.  
Harry grimaced, and nearly laughed at Hermione's eagerness. "Tonight, I guess."  
"Alright!" Hermione said brightly, too cheerful to notice that Ron was rolling his eyes.  
"Yea, why don't you go tell your boyfriend Fred..." He muttered, just quietly enough as Hermione rushed back over to Fred.


	8. Planning for a Prank

Upon Hermione's return, Fred leaned in eagerly, a grin brightening his features. He had been trying to overhear what went on between she and Harry, but had even worse success than Ron. He knew the answer to his question judging by the look on her face before he even asked it.  
"Well?" he demanded eagerly. "What did he say?"  
He was getting quite excited - the thought of the prank they were to pull on Snape and Umbridge was sounding more appealing by the moment. He wondered if it could be classified as a "prank". Or perhaps something worse? Nah. But it definitely traced along the borders, and that was what made it all the more exciting.

In reply, Hermione rolled her eyes and sat down, once again regaining her appetite.  
"He said he would lend it to us – get this –" Her eyes were shining with mirth. "-- tonight! We can go get the ingredients TONIGHT!!!! I asked Harry if you and I could go pick up his invisibility cloak while he was still eating if we finished before him, and he said yes!" She took a mouthful of mashed potatoes and grinned at Fred's eagerness to play this prank. True enough, Hermione was a bit surprised by herself that she was doing this – yet some of it faded when she remembered that Umbridge was the only person to which she would play any tricks on. Well, perhaps Snape as well...  
"So, do you want to go as quick as we can? Or would you rather wait?" She asked after swallowing.

Fred replied with a snort of laughter - he was already shoving his plate forward, the light of excitement glittering in his eyes. He had little desire for food when the idea of having an invisibility cloak in his hands to use at their own disposal was so close at hand.  
"Have I ever stricken you as one that had undying patience, Hermione?" he asked dryly. "I am ready to go as soon as you are, madame."

Hermione grinned and finished her mouthful of potatoes, before swiping her bag and getting up hastily. "Let's go." She muttered, wincing and trying her VERY best to ignore the newest phrase behind her, "I heard that they were even planning pranks together! What, now George is being replaced by Hermione and we have a new pranking duo in the school?"  
Hermione's biggest temptation was to turn right around and give whoever was saying that a long and furious diatribe. She even had it all planned out in her head.  
'No, I am not replacing George – I do NOT want to be classified as a prankster, you need to learn to keep your nose out of other people's BUSINESS, whereas you can't though, because you are brainless, useless, MINDLESS gossipers who can't keep a thing to yourself and learn to respect other people's privacy.'  
Yes, that would be lovely to say, but she couldn't. She held it in a forcibly turned back to Fred. "Shall we be off?"

Fred too rose to his feet. He glared icily at the pair of students behind Hermione. He too had heard the not-so-quiet comment, and was thinking of giving a retort similar to the Hermione planned, yet came to the same conclusion. He never was one who had a masterful grip on words. He wondered how news traveled so quickly over the whole school. It was like living in an anthill. He was about to suggest staying a while to give the gossiping prats something to squeak about, but he decided it would be better to get out of their as soon as they could.  
"Let's be off, then," he said, and with a grin began to walk around the table to cross to Hermione's side - stifling the instinct to cause anyone bodily harm as he did so.

Hermione sighed once more, adjusted her bag on her shoulder – and slowly began to trudge out of the great hall through the chattering students. She paused after only a few steps, waiting up for Fred.  
What really was going on inside her head was who the culprit was who had seen the kiss between her and Fred. Who and why they would choose to broadcast it to the entire school – dumbfounded her, and really, quite angered her. Oh, when she found out – she would make sure that person was embarrassed just like she was currently being.  
She chose different methods of payback than Fred – who would probably choose to send the boy home in a full body cast rather than use other ways of revenge.

Fred fell into step beside Hermione, keeping his eyes down to the ground a few inches in front of his feet to avoid temptation to clock somebody. Yes, he most definitely preferred violence of physical action to any sort of mental attack or conniving plan of revenge. It really was a much easier plan of action if one thought of it, required far less thought and was quite effective in the long run.  
He hadn't yet thought that one single person could be the cause of all this. It was perhaps glad that he didn't, for of course he woud have most likely pointed to Draco Malfoy for no reason whatsoever except for the fact that his grudge against him was greater than it had ever been.  
"I do believe, Hermione," he commented dryly. "We are going to have quite an interesting couple of days ahead of us, eh?"

Hermione grimaced wearily as they walked. "We are in for a –very– interesting next few days....all this hubbub about a kiss and two people.... Makes me so angry...."  
She took a quick glance at the red-haired boy and wondered why she didn't realize how cute it was before. The orange hair and those mirthful brown eyes! – how could she be so blind?  
But, she shrugged it off and continued to walk, cocking her head to the side slightly and causing some brown hair to fall downwards.

Fred nodded in reply.  
"Yeah. Makes me wonder how pitiful their lives are if they have to spend their time gossiping about - about such absurd things. But, oh well - at least excitement is better than boredom, eh?"  
He flashed a quick grin at her. In all truth, he didn't regret a thing. He'd kiss her again if he had it to do over. And he was not about to allow a few bored adolescents bother him or change his mind.

Hermione smiled rather weakly as they walked into the entrance hall, her thoughts half-formed and floating around in her head.  
"Actually, I'd rather have them be bored with us and leave us alone rather than be in the limelight of gossip..." She muttered truthfully, adjusting her bag on her shoulder and still only somewhat looking at the path in front of her, because she was staring at Fred.  
In truth, she was VERY surprised at how cute he could be when she really noticed it.

Fred laughed. He caught her looking at him a couple times, it was making him a bit self-conscious. He was not used to such attention, except perhaps from his mom when he was making sure he looked his best for some event or another. He was not all that bothered, though. He looked at her from the corner of his eye, wondering why he had never thought her as the overly pretty type. Had he always been standing a mile and a half away from her?  
"Yeah," he said distractedly. "I suppose s-- ow."  
He walked right into a wall as they were to turn a corner. He blinked at it, taking a step back. Grumpily, he wondered who had put it there and why he hadn't been told.

Hermione put the back of her hand to her mouth and suppressed a giggle as she watched Fred chow out his forehead into the wall.  
"Going a bit blind, are you?" She grinned. "I don't blame you... my eyes were a bit preoccupied myself..."  
She turned a bit pink at this and wondered why those words had just slipped out of her mouth. She was so corny when it came to compliments!

Fred snickered at the unexpected compliment. He wasn't sure whether he appreciated the compliment or the look on Hermione's face more. He rubbed at his forehead, grinning rather goofily - he could only be glad that he had not ran into a suit of armor or something sharp.  
"Blinded by your beauty, milady," he said gallantly. "And I blame the wall. It should not have been there. Pure and simple foul-play. In fact, I am going to lodge a complaint to Dumbledore right away..."

"And ask him to remove the wall?" Hermione asked in the same mock tone, feigning a disapproving look.  
"Well I say, your requests are quite high, Mr. Weasley." She smiled and laughed slightly, thinking about his hilarious valiant persona.

He laughed at himself - he was even being goofier than usual. Not even George could tolerate such nonsense for long, and would probably have demanded him to shut up already.  
"Oh, of course not," he replied, looking scandalized. "I would ask him to move it to Professor Snape's office. Or perhaps Madame Toad-Face Umbridge's. After a few months of such overt torture, I am sure it would never dare to disrespect my right of way ever again."

Hermione laughed and put her hand over her eye. Her thoughts were along Fred's, only about her. Since when had she been this silly? Only Fred brought out this in her – and she was beginning to really realize how much fun this was, and how much she needed to be like this more often. But she squashed this plan by thinking of what not only Ron would think of her, but how she could never turn into a female Fred. It was impossible!  
"I cannot wait to get the ingredients to this potion... I simply cannot wait..." She said with a smile, realizing it had been a few moments since she had spoken.

He gave her a swift, lopsided grin. He highly doubted that statement would have been uttered by Hermione a few weeks earlier. He supposed he was rubbing off on her - he wondered what he thought of this. Of course, it was fun to have her to laugh and joke with, but he liked Hermione as she was as well. He wouldn't like her to completely, completely change her ways. He supposed he would rather miss it if she didn't scold him now and again.  
"Let's go, then," he said. "The sooner we get the cloak the better."

Hermione nodded and fixed her eyes on where she was walking instead – and to her surprise, they were nearing the Fat Lady! Goodness, time and corridors went by when one was having fun!  
"Bean sprouts." She said to the Fat Lady, who was in conversation with her friend, Violet, the witch from the third floor. They immediately smiled in a motherly way when they saw the two.  
"Look at it Vi," The Fat Lady said as they both beamed down at Hermione and Fred. "Young love. How sweet, isn't it? Especially these two."  
"Oh I know!' Vi said, laughing softly and gazing intently at them.

Fred did this surprised twitching sort of thing, completely unexpected the dialogue between the two ladies. He wasn't sure whether to be embarrassed or laugh - motherly indeed. HIS mother would probably go about on a tirade when she found out about this, demanding why he "stole" Hermione from Harry. Let alone if she found out about Ron - then he would be in even worse hot water. He snorted, his grin resurfacing again.  
"Errr... would you mind letting us in?" he asked innocently, deciding to ignore the rather embarrassing comments.

Hermione had gone completely red when the words of the two portraits reached her ears.  
This was even more embarrassing than being teased by the whole school!  
The FAT LADY had even heard about it? Why, she wouldn'tve been surprised if -- if the giant squid had heard of it by now!  
"Yes, please?" She muttered, eyes looking at the floor and avoiding Fred's gaze.  
The Fat Lady beamed down at her for a few moments, then the picture swung forward and Hermione went inside, biting her lip and pushing some brown hair back behind her neck.

Fred grinned, stepping back for Hermione to climb through the portrait hole before him.  
"Ladies first," he said.  
Oh well - there goes any other slim chance they might have had of even a teensy bit if secrecy. He wouldn't be surprised if McGonagall herself would come out and congratulate them. Or perhaps scold them. This was becoming far too amusing than it was bothersome, in his opinion.

Hermione half-jogged up to the boy's dormitories stairs and walked up a few, then turned and waited for Fred again, smiling. This was going to be fun – sneaking a peek in the boy's dormitories AND getting to use Harry's invisibility cloak!  
Gracious, she startled herself at the mischievous side Fred unlocked in her.  
Yet there was still that old Hermione shining through a bit as she scowled. "You DO realize we're breaking about fifty school rules by doing this, do you not Fred?" Her eyebrow raised and once again, her arms found their way to that often used cross-arm position whenever she was telling someone off. She wasn't losing ALL her touch.

Fred beamed - ah, here was a bit of the old Hermione. At least he knew that she was not completely converted to his ways. It wasn't nearly so fun, pulling something off, if there was absolutely no resistance.  
"Of course I do," he said, his tone one of pleased amusement. "And that is half of the fun, you see. Whyever should I go out of my way to do something that I am allowed to do anyway? But come now - we waste valuable ingrediant-pinching time!"  
He laughed, walking on.

Hermione allowed herself to be pushed, but only with a slightly raised eyebrow and a reluctant tone went up the stairs.  
"Oh Fred... but what if we're caught? What if something goes wrong??? -- What would Dumbledore think?" Her eyes widened a little at the last question as they rounded the top of the stairs, and she tucked some brown hair behind her ear nervously,  
This task was looking more and more difficult.

"Dumbledore," Fred said wryly, his eyes sparkling as he concealed a grin. "... Shall never know. And if he does - well, we shall not think of what happens if he does. But I highly doubt it will be anything too severe. I don't think he loves Umbridge so much as to expel us for it. Now, it shall be Snape we have to worry about... but let us cross that bridge when we come to it, eh?"  
No, he was not going to let any doubts come between he and Hermione carrying this through. In his opinion, any risks would be well worth the actual act, if indeed it could be done. What was he thinking? Of course it could be done. Where there was a will, there was most certainly a way - and if there was, he and Miss Granger would find it.

Hermione grimaced as they rounded the top of the stairs, and when the door to the boys dormitories came into view, paused with a slightly raised eyebrow.  
"Er, are you sure I should go in there?" She asked uneasily, taking a precautious step backwards. "Maybe, well, you should check to make sure it's... empty."

Fred snorted.  
"Are you afraid, then?" he teased - but he could imagine their situations switched. Actually, no he couldn't. He wouldn't step foot in the girls' dormitories even if his bloody life depended on it. "Very well, then. I shall make sure the coast is clear."  
He stepped forward to open the door. He stuck his head in, and after a swift scan returned.  
"No worries," he said brightly. "It is quite empty."

Hermione still look a bit anxious about this – going into the boys dormitories where they slept, talked... and did – well, boy things, would be a quite odd place for a girl. Especially her.  
"Alright, I guess..." She said skeptically, and holding her breath as if diving under water, walked into the room.

Fred grinned, following after Hermione.  
"Careful," he said in a low tone. "You might step into a trap or somewhat. We males tend to keep our sleeping territories well-guarded from intruders... Now where would Harry keep his cloak? Surely not in his trunk, where any prankster or thief worth his salt would look first for it?"

Hermione laughed – a little more nervously than she would've wanted, for it came out in a soft uneasy one, but looked around anyways, taking in all the beds and their different posters around them.  
"Sure he would keep it in his trunk... he's trusting. Besides, where else would he keep it AND he told me it was in his trunk. I've always known where it was. I'm his friend, Fred." She smiled slightly, realizing that she was near telling Fred off for something small, and flashed a some-what apologetic look in his direction.

"'Course I knew that," he replied, kidding tone gone or at least turned down a little. "And that is why I asked you. I didn't think he would have us search through the entire dormitory... ah well then. After you."  
He reminded himself again for the umpteenth time that perhaps he should tone down with the teasing a bit. But it would be a difficult thing to do - it was something he had done his entire life, and so it would take more than a few weeks for the habit to be broken in all of its entirety. He motioned towards Harry's trunk - he supposed it was Harry's trunk, as it was by Harry's bed. Hermione had seen what was in it before - he did not feel like rummaging around someone's trunk. Though he and Harry were friendly, they were not friends as he and Hermione were, and felt it would be an invasion of sorts.

Hermione nodded and kneeled down beside the trunk.  
"I hope it isn't too difficult..." She muttered. "All the ingredients we'll need to get once we even FIND the book... of course if I took Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts I'd have access to the restricted section..."  
After opening the trunk, she began to rummage around in it. "– But I don't think I could take extra classes with that cow Umbridge... it'would be a nightmare..."  
She stopped gibbering and pulled out the cloak, also realizing that she might now want to keep talking in case she said something too un-Hermioneish about the teacher.

"I doubt that she would let anyone into advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts..." Fred commented. "Even if they are so brilliant as you. No, in fact, especially you."  
He grinned once Hermione took out the invisibility cloak - he could barely imagine what sort of things he and George would be able to use the wonderful thing with if it were their own. Ai - Filch would probably wish he had never been born. But he sighed, and made himself stop thinking of it - he would only use it for what Hermione told him to, and that was that. No matter what temptation may befall...

Hermione stood up, tucked the cloak neatly under her arm, then closed the trunk and turned to Fred after she did so.  
"Well, it's all set then. How's tonight to go and get the book?" She inquired, looking past Fred at the door and back.

"Tonight is fine," Fred said with a nod - for once he didn't even have any pressing homework worth mentioning, due to he and Hermione's studying session. "Whatever time you think is best."  
He realized that she would perhaps want to leave the dormitories as soon as possible. He smiled, backing up a bit to let her pass. His mother would be proud at his manners. It was a shame he only used them once in a while - and mostly around Hermione, of course.

Hermione gave a slight smile, then brushed past Fred and went all the way down the steps, eyes widened a little. "That was the oddest thing I've ever done." She muttered. "Well, apart from mixing an illegal potion in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, or any of the other mad things I've done with Harry and Ron..."  
Her voice trailed off and a sudden pang entered her heart as she remembered all the times the trio had spent together. What fun... all the law breaking and telling off she'd done... all the laughs and arguments, not to mention jokes.  
She missed that. As much as she didn't like to admit it to he own self, she missed being with Ron and Harry... together, as best friends.  
Not that they weren't, but....

Fred caught the tone in Hermione's voice as her sentence drifted off. He frowned a bit, and followed her down the stairs. At first the red-headed Weasley twin didn't say anything, because he felt troubled, trying to read the meaning behind the words. Hermione truly had done many mad things with Harry and Ron. Harry, Ron, Hermione. It had been that way - since their First Year. And now - were things different? And did Fred want to be a part - or even the reason - of it?  
"I shouldn't think so," he commented thoughtfully. "From what I have heard you three have done plenty of mad things... you give George and I a run for our money. Who knows what you shall do next - undoubtedly it'll be a bit more than causing the Toad to get a bit of a crush."

"Well," Hermione replied oddly, putting the cloak in her bag.  
"I don't know when I'll be seeing them often enough to do any more crazy things... I am in sixth year. Besides, Ron wouldn't want me to come back and I am not even sure if – I – want to go back..."  
But the tone in her voice wasn't very convincing when she had said her last sentence.  
She had always been very bad at lying... well, if you put aside the one time she lied in her first year to Professor McGonagall about the troll to save Harry and Ron's necks.  
She smirked and laughed softly at the memory of how wide their mouths were when they realized she was lying downright to a teacher.

Fred snorted lightly. He wondered whether Hermione realized how pathetic a liar she was. This was not the first time he had been exposed to her horrible skill at the act. Yet he felt bad - now that he thought about it, he was sure Hermione would probably go back to her clique with Harry and Ron in a second if she had a choice. The decision to switch to the sixth year was spur of the moment - and come to think of it, it was probably only to spite Ron for his rotten behavior. A bit disgruntled by this, he lacked some of his signature bright answers.  
"... Nah," he said with a shrug. "Of course you do, and you know he would, eventually. Where there is a will, there is a way, at least, or George and I should go completely out of business."

Hermione finished tucking the invisibility cloak in the bag, and looked up at Fred.  
"No, this was pretty serious... I doubt Ron and I are going to get through this one... he is so -- stubborn." With a sigh and a rub of the face, she resigned the talk.  
"No, what am I saying – we have a book to steal, and things to plan... only," She paused and her eyes drifted to the portrait hole.  
"Would you mind if I met up with you later? I have something I DO need to ask Ron..."

The Weasley twin nodded, though his eyes narrowed a bit, curiously. Mentally, he was ticking off the thought: "don't ask, you are turning into one of the most annoyingly nosy creatures I know" to himself. He was also impatient - though they could not very well steal the book straightaway, he was anxious to get things rolling.  
"Of course," he said out loud. "I'll be lurking around here somewhere, I suppose. Just give a holler when you need me."

Hermione raised her eyebrows a bit at his odd behavior. He was bugged about something -- she knew it. Hermione may have been a bad liar, but she wasn't thick.  
"Fred -- it's alright." She said convincingly. "I just need to ask him one thing..." Then, with in mock-dissaproval. "Stop being so protective..."

Fred sighed, only used to that tone when his mother was trying to retain her patience with him.  
"Oh, I'm not -so- protective," the Weasley twin said with a small grin, his humor returning once again - did it ever leave him for more than a few moments, anyhow? "Yet. You would know it if I am being protective - you have seen nothing yet. Go on, ask him whatever you have to ask him. I'll be here when you need me."

It was Hermione's turn to grin mischievously.  
"Don't you worry about THAT, Fred." She replied briskly, re-slinging the back over her shoulder. "When I need you . . . I'll be there in a heart beat if I ever do, that's for sure. Whatever the case might be . . ." She added thoughtfully.

Fred laughed.  
"Alright, then. I'll see you later."  
He decided not to delay Hermione any longer - the sooner she asked this of Ron - whatever it was - the sooner they could begin plotting the thievery of the book. He could definitely entertain himself by imagining the prolonged effects of their prank - again the little grease-balls of children came to his mind - for a while as he waited.


	9. Prepare to Fly

The air was still and partly silent in the common room a few hours later, only punctuated by the quiet talking of a few girls, the occasional book set down, page turn, and paper rustle.  
Yet these were not the only sounds that would soon be in the common room...  
Five minutes later, the portrait hole opened, and Hermione stepped in, eyes wide and looking a little odd.  
At seeing Harry and Ron, she went up to them, eyes drifting around for Fred, but when she realized he was not there, turned back to her two friends with a weak smile.

"You are... you are... -such- a... a..."  
"... Clever person? I mean, come on, I pulled the wool over his eyes perfectly..."   
"No! You are an arse! That's what you are!"  
"Why? It is not as if we've never done this before."  
"Well, I never tried to sabotage you when you're... you're..."  
"... Planning on spending the evening with my girlfriend?"  
"George!"   
"Bah. You should be happy! And at least we're speaking again, eh?"  
Fred and George stomped into the Common Room, following Hermione soon after through the portrait hole - Fred was fuming. It seemed that George had gotten into a scrape with Filch, and as his defense he decided to convince the caretaker that he was his brother. This was, perhaps, a way of revenge for their brief period of not speaking to each other. So it was that Fred found himself saddled with detention for a crime he didn't even commit - that night of all nights! Worse off, George wasn't even the slightest bit sorry.  
"Well," Fred said decisively. "I am not going. You are going to get yourself out of this."  
"Aww, come on, Fred! It won't be so bad. Besides, I've gotten you out of trouble loads of times..."  
"I can't, this time! I've already got plans."  
"Well, we'll see what Master Filch thinks of THAT..."

"You sure you're alright, Hermione? Did you take your potion last night alright? You kind of rushed out of class early to take it..." Harry asked quietly, looking a bit concerned.  
Hermione smiled in a not-so-normal way. "Yes, the potion ... e-everything was fine."  
Ron raised his eyebrow. "You know, I'm really surprised that you haven't reported him, 'Mione... after what that creep did to you..."  
An impatient noise escaped Hermione's throat. "I told you, something happened that –"  
"– once again you cannot tell your friends?" Ron asked, this time not angrily, but a little annoyedly. "Look, we care about you, that's why we want to know,"  
"And if I am telling you that everything is fine, and that I've taken care of it – you've done your job of caring and everything is just wonderful! I took my potion, then went to the grounds, and now I am here!"  
"The grounds?"

"Come on, Fred," pleaded George. "Please? I have something to do tonight."  
Hearing her voice and that of her friends, Fred glanced in Hermione's direction. He and George still lingered just inside the portrait hole. He sighed, and ran a hand through his vibrant hair. Hermione most definitely would not appreciate this. And, for that matter, neither did he! He made up his mind quickly, although the last thing he wanted was another fued with his twin.  
"I can't, George, I am sorry," he said patiently. "I have already made plans to do something with Hermione this evening. You will have to go on pretending that you're... you're... me..."  
He paused. A thought just truck him - if George was to pose as him while doing detention with Filch, why, that would be the perfect alibi for him. If something did backfire in their plan, they would not be able to pinpoint the blame on him, because he would supposedly be in detention. And Hermione? Like he already said, multiple times, no one would suggest that she would do such a thing due to her clean record.  
"You know, that is a great idea!" he said happily, slapping his hand genially on George's shoulder. "Right! You go to detention, pretending to be me! Good thinking, mate. I'll make it up to you, somehow, I'm sure. Now, 'scuse me."  
He beat a hasty retreat from a befuddled George, and made a b-line for Hermione, Harry and Ron.  
"Hullo," he said with a grin, though he sent a cautious look in Ron's direction as he drew near. "What're you all up to?"

Harry grinned at the sight of Fred, and Ron gave a kind of half odd-ish smile.  
Hermione turned at the sound of the voice.  
'Oh hey Fred." She said in a very peculiar quiet way, almost as if she were covering up something and pretending to be cheery. "I didn't see you come i–"  
"- Hermione," Ron interjected. "Please tell us what's going on. We're not stupid. You look different, and this is very weird."  
Harry silently agreed as Ron continued to look concernedly at Hermione.  
The brown haired girl raised her eyebrows. "Honestly, stop it. Nothing's wrong with me."

A bit befuddled by Ron's words and Hermione's reactions, Fred arched an eyebrow at the two, and then eyed Hermione curiously. After a bit he agreed with his brother, though it felt rather odd now to be doing so if one put to light all the happenings of the last day or so. Somehow he would have prefered taking Hermione's side, but lately he tended to realize if Hermione said nothing was wrong, then something was, usually, quite wrong.  
  
"If you do not tell us what's wrong," Fred said slowly, and then he granted, "IF there is something wrong, you know one of us will find out eventually. We only want to help, if you'd like to put it out into the open now rather than later. Or else we'll have to resort to bribery."

"Bribery?" Hermione said reprovingly with a smile. "Hmm, what might just work... but I am telling you, I'm fine, just a little put off at Malfoy..."  
She paused thoughtfully, then added. "Only because he gave me the usual torture in the great hall. Nothing big. Honesty, you three...."  
Her hand oddly ran up and down her arm as she peered at the three, not her usual self, but seemed to be in the state of a girl who was getting over something – and Draco was most certainly something to get over. A slimy git would be sure to put someone off into their un-normal selves! Unless the ones who were un-normal were un-normal for a different reason...

((( Sorry everyone, I'm missing a whole section here. They finished the conversation not getting anything out of Hermione, and where you come in again is where Fred and Hermione are walking down the hall towards GCR.) )))

"Ah," Fred said, raising his eyebrows a bit. The title of the book had gone in one ear and out the other, but he did recognize that it was something boring and probably very big. He tried to imagine buying it for Hermione, but he decided that he should probably stick with his original idea. He'd make Ron get that Theory of Numbers book for her, or whatever it was called. "Hmm, sounds... interesting..."  
  
He had noticed the decline in teasing as well, though he never really did get the brunt of it so much as Hermione had. He didn't even have to hit anyone lately, which was a comforting thought, he supposed.  
  
"Say, Hermione?" he said, masking his voice in a careless tone. He paused, trying to decide on his wording. "Do you remember that letter you got a while ago? I was wondering. It's been a while... do you think you could tell me what was in that thing soon? I'm still dying to know..."  
  
He grinned, and then on an afterthought he added, "Please?"

Hermione jumped out of thought like a cat being hit by a toy when it was asleep.  
"Oh – the letter?" She said uncertainly, wondering why Fred had brought it up and biting her lip.  
The thought of telling him frightened her beyond words, but he couldn't go on without knowing FOREVER.  
Even so, what would he think? Even more so – what would he _do_?  
Trying to decide on this for Hermione was like trying to decide between... between what classes to take the next year! It was terrible.  
She decided just to be honest. There was no harm in that, and it might stall her some time...  
"Well I really do want to tell you Fred, but quite frankly, I'm a little worried about the outcome..." She said slowly.

"Hermione..." the Weasley twin sighed, realizing that once again Hermione was expecting a bad reaction from him. He wondered if he should start feeling insulted by now. He had already promised to take whatever she told him in good grace, the last time he had tried to get information of this mysterious letter out of her. Oh well.  
  
"Please? I promise, whatever it is, I won't freak out, okay? I won't - er - hurt anyone, I won't yell, I won't even say anything if you don't want me to," he added, again, "Please?"  
  
By now he was literally dying to know what it was. If she was so reluctant to tell him what it was, he could hardly imagine what it was that she was keeping from him.

"Oh it isn't you I expect the bad reaction to come from," Hermione added quickly, not wanting to insult him.  
This was only half true – she was mainly concerned about two things; a) Fred doing something brash, and b) the news spreading all over the school and ruining her and a few other peoples lives.  
"Its other things... and I believe you Fred – I really do... I'm considering telling you, seriously, but the only thing is – it needs to remain a secret."  
She had in all truth been with Fred long enough to know he could keep a secret. He, along with Harry and Ron had kept her secret about the potion taking from the curse Malfoy sent very well indeed.

Hmm. De-ja-vu. He could have sworn that they had this conversation some time ago, and it had ended more or less the same way that this one was apparently ending, also. Oh well. He sighed, and stared at Hermione with a rather morose look on his face. He held it for a few seconds before he turned to look ahead of him, again. It was not good for one's health to walk into a wall one too many times. He learned this from painful experience.  
  
What could he say? He could promise to keep her secret until he was old and gray (and perhaps even after that, if she was REALLY determined to keep him in silence), but he doubted that it'd make any difference. How could he blame Hermione for hesitating to tell him this "big secret", anyway? Why, everyone KNEW what a gossip he was.  
  
Obviously this wasn't the right time to bring it up. Besides, what was the harm of a bit of reverse psychology?  
  
"Alright," he said absently, as if his mind was already on other matters. "I understand. Perhaps some other time, then."

Hermione was a bit taken aback by this response. Okay, not a bit – very much so.  
She had thought Fred of all people would say something along the lines of, "Sure Hermione, you know I'd keep it secret." And then continue to listen to what it was, certainly not, "Okay. Maybe some other time then."  
Was he giving in because he knew he wouldn't be able to keep the secret?  
Or was he offended and being cool with her?  
She didn't know, and was frightened by what it could be. The last thing she wanted to do was anger the very person she wanted to be with.  
But then again, she didn't really want to tell him yet – it at all, and maybe Fred just was respecting what she wanted... she didn't know. Maybe to just ignore it...  
She looked up and realized they were nearly to the Gryffindor Common Room. Down the hall was the Fat Lady.

He smirked a little, though he was careful not to let her see it. Oh well. Let her think. He wasn't angry, but he wasn't exactly pleased with the situation either. He could gather much of what she was thinking from her silence. Let her be a bit flustered for a while - maybe she'd feel a bit more obliged to be open with him next time?  
  
He, too, noticed that they had reached their destination. Well, almost. He eyed the Fat Lady curiously.  
  
"What's the password again?" he asked, turning to Hermione. "I completely forget."  
  
Actually, that was a bit of a lie. He never went to any great lengths to learn it in the first place. Someone was always handy if his memory failed him. He hoped George was inside. If not, they had a whole lot of searching to do. Who knew where one of the Weasley twins could be at any given moment?

Hermione, who had previously been rubbing her hand over her forehead, looked up and paused for a moment. "Its beetle-bug... but I don't know if it's changed since..."  
Her words were cut short however by the Fat Lady's portrait opening to reveal the hole to climb inside. Without a word, Hermione stepped through looking confused and strode over to the fireside, where Ron and Harry sat in chairs with books.  
"Hello you two," She said, blinking at them. "Actually studying on your own? That's a big improvement. . ."  
Ron looked up and his face didn't change at all when he noticed that his best friend was speaking to him.  
"Yea, well we figured we'd better do it sometime..." Harry said, grinning at her.

As Hermione went off to talk with Harry and Ron, Fred made a bee-line for his twin. He spotted George almost immediately. He was thoroughly engrossed in a conversation with Lee Jordan at the moment, not far away from where Hermione's companions were situated. The two were looking rather shady, discussing something in low tones. It made Fred wonder if this meant George had found a replacement for him. The two hadn't spent half the time they used to together - in fact, it had been absolute ages before they pulled any pranks together worth mentioning, except slipping a canary cream into some random bloke's food the other day for making a face at them. He did not want his brother to feel left out. Maybe they should try to plot something together soon. Still, now wasn't the time for that. He strode purposefully up at them - flashing Harry and Ron a quick (and probably unseen) - grin as he passed by their chairs.  
  
"Oy, George!" he said as he drew near, and blurted out without any preliminary greeting whatsoever, "I need to ask you a favor, mate."  
"What is it?" asked his mirror image, arching a brow.  
"I need to borrow your broom."  
"What for?" George narrowed his eyes a little.  
Fred snorted. "Don't worry, we won't bust it, no reason to look so suspicious."  
"'We'? You and Hermione, then?" he sounded scandalous. "She is going to ride my broom?"  
"Yes or no, George," Fred said flatly, lifting his eyebrows a bit.  
  
After some hesitation, George finally shrugged, turning back to Lee Jordan with his conversation. Grinning, Fred walked back to Hermione.  
  
"It's a go, then," he said happily.

Hermione nodded with an approving smile as Ron gave a grunt. She ignored him.  
"So how've you been doing lately, you guys?" She asked brightly.  
"Oh," Ron turned his neck up to face her so quickly, that he appeared to have hurt it. "You actually care now, do you? That's surprising..."  
Hermione's smiled faded. "Ron, I ––"  
"Oh Hermione, go sod off." He spat all of a sudden, going back to his book.  
Hermione looked very confused and worried. "Ron, this isn't about me spending time with Fred again is it?"

Fred was slightly taken aback by Ron's derisive comment. He stared blandly at the other red-head for a few moments, and then shook his head in disgust. What was with the bloody prat? Some brother he was acting. His dislike for Ron was steadily growing, to a point that was uncommonly high between siblings. This jealousy was getting completely out of hand. He and Ron used to get on relatively well before this. Why couldn't he just grow up a bit? He wondered if he should hex him in his sleep or something, just to save him the misery of his presence. He leaned over Hermione's chair, folding his arms over the back of it and narrowing his eyes at Ron.  
  
"No," he drawled insipidly, not exactly caring that he was butting into their conversation. "I think his problem is, Hermione, that he's been so much of an immature prat lately they decided to take away his fancy Prefect's badge, and move him back to fourth year."  
  
He arched an eyebrow at Ron, but he was not in the mood to get into any further confrontation. He drummed his fingers against the back of the chair and then moved away.  
  
"I'll go get those brooms, Hermione," he said in a low tone. He added, as an afterthought, "'Lo, Harry."

Hermione was looked at Ron uneasily. When Fred spoke, she turned to him, then back at Ron and sighed. Her eyes suddenly looked more tired than usual. Or perhaps it was just the lighting.

Harry looked up at Fred after staring at Ron with an expression that suggested he was tired of Ron's comments. "Hey Fred," then added, "How's the joke shop coming then?"  
He suddenly remembered that Hermione and him had been spending an awful lot of time together, so how could he been planning the joke shop?

"Alright," Hermione said finally, answering Fred's question in a sort of delayed way. She was staring at Ron, who was glaring right back at her with a funny look in his brown eyes. Hermione couldn't place it in her mind, but they were staring at each other in a slightly softened way. Perhaps one different than the other.

Hermione continued to stare at Ron, without even noticing Fred's absence.

They seemed to be having a silent conversation. Ron was just sitting there staring at her blankly, and Hermione's eyes were soft.

Harry didn't know what to think. "Er – yeah. Bye," He said to Fred, then turned to his two friends. "Like old times, eh? Us three again."  
Hermione nodded slowly. Ron blinked. "Sure. Like – old times," She said softly.

Lee Jordan however, broke off his conversation with George quickly and sped after Fred. "Fred – hey FRED! Wait up,"

Fred nodded, watching as Lee returned to his brother. He glanced quickly in Hermione's direction. He had missed her look at him, and with a short shrug he started back towards the boys' dormitories. After about three minutes' rummaging he found his and George's brooms, and as soon as he did he immediately forgot about his plans with Lee and George. It seemed forever since he had been on his broom, and he could not help but look forward to teaching Hermione how to fly on it. Well, perhaps "teach" was the wrong word. Surely she had mounted one before, at least in First Year. All First Years were taught how to ride a broom. Oh well. He still looked forward to it. Holding both brooms under one arm, he dashed out of the dormitories and back into the common room.  
  
He strode over to where Hermione, Ron and Harry were still convened. He came to a stop just a few feet away, and looked from one to another curiously.  
  
"Ready, Hermione?" he asked.

Hermione had already stood up before Fred had even reached the chair; and was mildly surprised at the timing of it.   
When she saw the brooms in his hands her face brightened slightly, even though that ashamed air still hung.  
"Right then," She said awkwardly, glancing in Ron's direction, then to Harry, before grabbing her bag from the floor and asking Fred, "Need me to carry one?"  
Harry had looked up and blinked. "Fred, are you actually letting Hermione fly one of those?" He asked.

Fred grinned broadly. He nodded to Hermione, and held out George's broom to her – not because he thought anything of the burden, but rather because he thought the girl would like to hold it. Of course, the brooms were as identical as their owners, but he could tell his broom from his brother's as easily as – well, he could tell himself from his brother. He eyed Harry.  
  
"I don't see why not," he replied. And then added, matter-of-factedly, "She'll probably fly better than all of us, just you watch. Or, er, hear about later."  
  
He was willing to wager, at least, that she flew better than Ron. Maybe she could take his place as keeper next year. Interesting thought, that, but one he didn't want to voice aloud.  
  
"Well, we better hurry, or it'll be dark by the time we get out there," he cautioned.

Hermione nodded and took the broom, smiling at Fred's words.  
"I doubt it. I'll probably fall flat on my bum as soon as I get out there. Harry's the master at it – in first year his broom just jumped into his hand, and mine was. . . – a little skeptical."  
It was an odd feeling, Hermione thought as her fingers tightened around the smooth wood. Not that she was going to get into a career in Quidditch, but it was a good thing to enjoy.   
What was she saying – she hadn't even been on the broom yet!  
Harry grimaced. "Alright, whatever you say Fred, but one thing's for sure -- Hermione's done more studying on it than we ever will." He grinned.

Fred snickered.  
  
"That she has, mate."  
  
Now that he thought about it, Hermione probably understood the general idea and rules of Quidditch better than he did. She shouldn't have any trouble at all, then. He lifted his broom over his shoulder and turned back to grin at Hermione.  
  
"Are you ready, then?" he asked. "I promise, if you fall on your bum, I won't laugh."  
  
The very thought, however, almost made him snicker. He glanced in the general direction of the portrait hole, eager to be off and in the air.

Hermione shoved Fred on the arm playfully and threw him a mock-disapproving look, before lifting her head high and walking to the portrait holes' exit.  
"Fine then, tease me all you want you two." She eyed Harry and Fred, before pushing open the Fat Lady and exiting with a grin.  
Harry looked up at Fred. "Alright, have fun – but be careful she doesn't bore you too much before hand. And remember, the Quidditch match is tomorrow, so get training. My Word I sound like Wood. . ."

Fred watched after Hermione with an expression on his face that could only be described as "goofy". He was about to follow her when Harry spoke. He readjusted his much-less-goofy gaze on the boy, lifting his eyebrows a bit.  
  
"Ah, she hasn't bored me yet," he grinned. It was true – sure, he had probably been a bit bored during the times he studied with her, but she had never actually bored him. Actually, he found much of what she said fascinating, even if he wouldn't admit it openly at times. "And yes, you're starting to sound a bit like Wood, mate. It's scary. First Angelina, now you..."  
  
He gave a little shudder, and then with a short, "See y'later, then!" trotted after Hermione


	10. Excitement before and at the Pitch

Harry smirked after Fred and returned to his book, but not before he caught Ron staring after the two of them.  
"I'd forgotten about the match until now," He said glumly. "I'm rubbish. We'll never win with me playing."  
Harry shook his head, feeling that it was useless to try and convince him. It wasn't as if he would listen anyhow.  
  
Hermione smiled as she heard the footsteps behind her and sped up slightly. Why she was going faster on purpose, she had no idea – whether it was teasing Fred again or simply her eagerness to try out a broom.  
Her thoughts were also drawn to the Quidditch match the following day. What would it be like, and would Ron do well?  
But now that she felt differently about Fred than before all the other matches, she was rather excited to see him in full-Quidditch action.

Fred hurried down the hall after Hermione, his heavy footfalls echoing through the hall. In all truth, he had completely forgotten about the Quidditch match until then. Well, actually, he hadn't forgotten - it had just been shoved to the back of his mind temporarily, and he was quite surprised with himself. He felt that familiar excitement growing at the pit of his stomach at the thought. Ah. He did so love that bloody sport. There was nothing quite so satisfying as whacking at those bludgers and knocking a guy off their broom. Well, he'd have some practice today, anyway.  
  
"Oy!" he called, catching sight of his quarry and quickening his pace a step. "Wait up!"  
  
Eventually he fell into step beside her, and shot her a quick grin. She looked excited. He could barely remember the first time he had ever mounted a broom - he was probably about three, stealing a ride off of one of his brother's brooms - but he did remember the general excitement associated with that event.  
  
"When I said we should hurry, Hermione, I didn't actually mean that we had to run."

Hermione smiled wryly and paused a moment. Her fingers tightened around the handle of the broom and she kept the bag on her shoulder more secure.  
"I've just read all about it, but never actually gotten to ride one – what is it like?" She asked, sincerely wanting to know Fred's insight on broomstick riding.  
It would be interesting to hear the feeling of riding from a Beater on the Quidditch team, after all – Fred had a very brutal job. Bashing very firm balls at player's heads . . . it sounded dreadful.

Fred gave a dreamy sort of sigh. He tilted his head a bit, turning his eyes up towards the ceiling as he contemplated his answer. There was a slight bounce to his step as he walked along. He liked flying almost as much as he liked pulling pranks. This, said by a Weasley, was no light matter.  
  
"It... it is..." he didn't get any further before he stumbled on his words. He gestured a bit, and then frowned. "Well, flying a broom's like...."  
  
He trailed off again, and lowered his eyes to blink at Hermione. He could simply not find the words to expression what it felt like to fly, high above the heads of the others, the adhrenaline pounding through his veins during the full excitement of a Quidditch game. He couldn't exactly explain that, and he wasn't exactly sure that Hermione would quite relate to the sensation anyway. He smirked and gave a small shrug, twirling the handle of his broom between one large hand as he supplied,  
  
"You just simply haven't lived yet 'til you get up there."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. Goodness, that sounded wonderful.  
The way Fred described it was the way Fred looked when he talked about jokes, and that was saying something.  
"So. . ." She said as they went out the front doors into the frosty air. "I suppose that I'll need to get out there as quick as possible?" A rare grin flashed across her features as that sparkly white shine that only appeared when she was cold came to her eyes.

Fred smirked. For a moment he felt a strange sort of butterfly feeling in his stomach, for he had just thought to himself how beautiful Hermione looked when she grinned like that.  
  
"Quite right, my lady..."  
  
He laughed, and then without preemptive he darted off in a quick run towards the Quidditch Pitch. The cold always made him have the almost overwhelming desire to run or do something that required a lot of action, and he could not bear simply walking across the ground.  
  
"We can run, now!" he called over his shoulder. "I'll race you!"

Hermione felt the same zip of adrenaline butterflies shoot through her stomach and laughed. "Fred!" She called, then sighed and started to run after him, feet nearly frozen from the snow.  
"I'll never catch up!" But she couldn't help but laugh as she ran, still holding the broom in her hand. She was only a few feet behind him now, and gaining slowly.   
"Oh, you cheeky little . . ."

Fred laughed again, and cast a look over his shoulder at the approaching Hermione. He was tempted to slow down and let her win, but he knew that she probably would scold him for it if he tried.   
  
"Cheeky little what?" he asked -- well, cheekily.  
  
Of course, he probably should not have done that. If he wasn't busy ogling at her, he would have avoided tripping over some random lump in the snow, that obviously had a bit of substance under it. As it was, he continued to ogle at Hermione, and so he went fell forward, head over heels, with nothing but a short "Oof!" as he fell on his hands and knees. He was unhurt, of course, but his pride was a bit bruised. Grabbing for his broom, Fred gave an unintelligible growl and scrambled to his feet, but he knew there was little hope that he would win the race now.

With a small laugh, Hermione had been distracted as well; before she realized that Fred had bit the snow.  
And, being directly behind him going at top speed as fast as she could, there was little hope of slowing down to avoid impact.  
Dropping the broom and nearly tripping before she even reached Fred, Hermione collided right into him and knocked them both down on the ground with a cry of, "AH!"  
Her bag hit the ground and so did she, ending up in a very confused mess.

The whole situation was so unfortunate and confusing and ridiculous that Fred could not help but start laughing as he tumbled back to the ground again. It felt as if snow was now sticking to every part of his body, and it was absolutely freezing. However, he could think of less pleasant circumstances than rolling in the snow with Hermione. Snickering madly and choking on his laughter, he struggled to his knees, though it was rather difficult since he was being pinned down by both Hermione and her infamous bag that probably weighed more than she did.  
  
"Are - are you all --"  
  
He couldn't do it. He was laughing too hard. Good heavens, he was acting like an idiot. Not for the first time, he was glad that George or Lee or anyone of the sort weren't around to see him like this. Finally he sobered enough to say, properly,  
  
"You alright?"

Fred's was so contagious, that Hermione burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter as well.  
She tried to get up, but her cloak was pinned down by something and she simply fell back down again. "I'm sorry," She managed between breaths of laughter. "Am I hurting you?" Her head was resting on his stomach and she was so tired from trying to move in the snow that she thought she might need to fall asleep – but just as his thoughts were, she was not exactly hating being on the ground in the snow with Fred.

The Weasley twin's grin faded to a happy sort of smile, and he shook his head.  
  
"Nah, not at all," came the breathy reply - his laughter was fading a bit, as he too felt a bit drowsy after their struggles.  
  
He propped himself up on his elbow, and lifted his free hand to run it gently over her brown hair. He realized that he would be perfectly happy if they never had to move again, if he could simply stay sprawled in the snow with Hermione 'till the world crashed about them. A bit of a deep thought for the trickster, but he meant it at the time. He had never been so happy as when he was with her. Sure, he had been happy plenty of times in his life - but not like this. He mused over the thought for a bit, completely unaware of cold.

Hermione's thoughts were along the line of Fred's. Every time his hand went over her hair, a pleasant shiver ran down her spine and settled in her stomach.  
She never thought that one day she might be lying in the snow with Fred Weasley of all people. Fred Weasley!  
Her eyes scanned the cloudy sky and she pondered whether to move or not – but it was so tempting just to remain there and stay until the sun went down.  
She also wondered if she should say something to him – maybe a compliment, or just to say something about how she felt. As she thought this a terrified jolt of panic shot through her and she suddenly found that she was split in half.  
To say something, or not to say something.  
"Fred ––" She began slowly, trying to get some of the words out. Maybe that would be easiest in this completely and absolutely new world of feelings.  
She sighed and closed her eyes. "You're wonderful. . ."  
As she said a half-satisfied, half ridiculously difficult feeling crept over her. She wondered whether Fred would think her an idiot.

For roughly the first time in his life, a faint blush crept across Fred's cheeks. At first he was a bit speechless by the simple compliment, for a few reasons. He believed this was the first Hermione had ever given him. He was also struck by the irony of it. Just a few months ago, who would have said something like that to him? Sure, he had heard things such as: "Fred, you're crazy." "Fred, you're an idiot." "Fred, you're annoying." But, "Fred, you're wonderful"? It was almost a laughable thought. No, never! He wondered what Hermione saw in him to come up with something like that.  
  
Of course he didn't think that Hermione was an idiot - he was a bit surprised, though, and didn't know quite what to say in reply. "You too?" How much less tact could one have to say that? "Thanks?" Even less. His hand stilled for a bit, and he peered down at her curiously as he searched for the right words. Some came to him, though whether they were right or not was up to Hermione's reaction.  
  
"Only when I'm with you."  
  
He fell into a musing silence, and then, at last, he realized that he was sitting in snow, and he was absolutely freezing his arrse off.

It was Hermione's turn to blush pink slightly and she felt her stomach flutter.  
Then when she remembered where they were supposed to be going, she, (with difficulty) sat up and turned around to stare at Fred for a moment. Just a moment, before they got up again.  
There wasn't really a need for words, it was kind of just a thoughtful moment where Hermione, with her brown hair falling down beside her face, stared directly at Fred with content eyes as they sat in the soft yet freezing cold snow.  
She hoped he still didn't think she was being too close with him.

Fred tilted his head a bit, and some of his snow-flecked hair shifted over his forehead. He smiled at Hermione with a far-away sort of smile. He met her gaze and held it, his expression very similar to her own. He let his fingers fall from her hair, resting his hand instead on her shoulder. He did not feel overly motivated to move just yet.

Hermione felt his hand on her shoulder and her eyes searched his curiously –– then, slowly, she drew her finger up to Fred's cheek, leaned in, and kissed him as softly as she could.  
As she did, she felt her throat tighten oddly and she withdrew with her stomach zipping.  
How was it that she had enough nerves to do that?  
A few months ago she would've rather failed every exam miserably than kiss Fred on the lips, and now she was doing it willingly.  
Gracious, what had gotten into her

Fred's eyebrows shot up slightly. Hermione had the uncanny knack of astonishing him sometimes - more often than anyone else had ever had the ability to, as a matter of fact. He smiled, though. It was a pleasant surprise. Now, he realized he had a dilemma on his hands - a little voice in the back of his head was telling him that they were wasting time here, and that the sooner they got on to the Quidditch Pitch, the better; but also after her soft kiss, it only made him feel the overwhelming desire to kiss her again. Now, as much as he loved Quidditch, in his eyes there wasn't much of a choice...  
  
He leaned closer to her, slipping his other hand over the back of her neck as he returned the kiss - just as softly. He understood what a gigantic leap it was for her to kiss him first, so he pulled back soon, giving her one of his most charming smiles.

Hermione was quite taken aback at the return kiss – and was so shocked, that when he withdrew, her mouth was slightly open. Then, when she realized how much it meant to her, and how much he had meant it, Hermione threw her arms around him and buried her face into his neck.  
It might've been a bit brash – but she didn't care at the moment. She felt tremendously free, and was enjoying every second she spent with him.  
Then, as if someone had once again tickled her nerves, she began to laugh quietly.

Fred had not exactly been expecting that reaction, but he was well beyond being surprised at this point. He did not react right away, not knowing quite what to do in this situation, but eventually the clever boy figured it out. He wrapped his arms around her with a happy sigh. As she began to laugh, he chuckled softly. He felt warm, and happy, and oddly impulsive - even more so than he did in the regular span of a day. He did not do anything right away, merely enjoying the feeling and warmth of the embrace. Then, suddenly, he stood, and as he was holding her tightly he lifted Hermione right up with him, sweeping her off her feet. He twirled her a bit before setting her on her feet, and then grinned at her, his brown eyes glittering. He didn't know what to say, so he merely ruffled the snowflakes out of her hair.

Hermione's spirits were soaring – never had she been happier in her life, even when she passed all her exams with 112 percent.  
It was strange, she was always up for giving Ron and Harry advice about emotions – but stepping into the actual world itself was an entirely new experience and more difficult than she had actually imagined.  
When they stopped spinning, without a moments hesitation, Hermione grinned at Fred, then swiped up her broom from the ground and stuck out her tongue in a teasing manner.  
"I'll beat you now," She smiled, breathing quickly before turning and beginning to run the rest of the way to the Quidditch pitch.  
They were close enough already, so she hurried up the steps and entered the giant arena waiting for Fred to follow.

Fred gave a laugh. He snatched up his broom and was after Hermione in a flash, though he did not try to win this time. He was not exactly sure if he could do it even if he wanted to. He was slightly out of breath when he caught up with her, though still grinning. He cast a quick glance about him, at the wide open Pitch, and he felt that familiar feeling of excitement he got every time before he was about to fly. He had understandably forgotten about their plans just a little while ago, but already he was just as eager to be off as when they first set out.  
  
"Well, Hermione?" he began, his eyes shining. "Are you ready to fly, then?"

Hermione was awed by the size and splendor of the Quidditch pitch.  
The snow had formed icicles on the stands and there was frost everywhere.  
It looked like a giant ice stadium – and Hermione wondered how much colder it would be actually in the air, going very fast.  
"Alright. . ." She said slowly, taking a few crunchy steps forward. "But you're going to need to help me a lot, because I haven't a clue of what I'm doing. . ."  
She grinned at him and exhaled, causing a blast of vapor to evaporate into the air.

Fred nodded.  
  
"Of course," he assured her. He didn't mention that he hadn't a clue of how to help her. He had never exactly tried to teach anyone how to ride a broom before. He was rather confident in himself, however, so he didn't bother to say anything of the sort. He followed her out into the pitch, turning his bright eyes about him as he did so. He knew exactly how cold it was going to be once they started flying - especially with their wet clothes, it was not going to be a very pleasant experience -- not that he cared.  
  
"Well, are you ready to start?" he asked, beaming.

Hermione bit her lip and nodded with a wry smile. She had never done this before, but studied enough about it.  
"Okay, let's see. . ."  
As she had learned in her very first year at Hogwarts, she set her broom in the air, let go, and it hovered at just the right height for her.  
"Well. First step accomplished." She said, laughing slightly and turning a worried eye to Fred.

Fred tried, without very much success, to hide a smirk. He nodded. He did not try to mount his broom yet, wanted instead to wait until Hermione was a bit more steady on hers. He didn't want to be preoccupied with staying on his own broom, just incase she happened to fall off.  
  
"Indeed," he assented. "Now, on to the next step --"  
  
He lifted his eyebrows slightly, hoping that she could recall that step without him having to remind her. It was a bit obvious.

Of course, Hermione did not need reminding, -- why would she? So she swung her leg over the broom and sat on it for a few moments.  
"This is so odd. . ." She muttered, before looking upwards and saying, "So, er – just, kick off and away then I guess?"  
Now that she was actually there it looked a bit intimidating, getting ready to fly hundreds of feet in the air on nothing but a broomstick.  
The sky was an endless range of grey, and who knew what would happen if she fell of. . .

The Weasley was already stepping over his broom and ready to kick off. It was a rather scary thought, and he was a bit nervous. He couldn't imagine what he'd do if Hermione got hurt because of this. However he tried not to let this show - she wanted to fly, and if he wasn't going to teach her, there was very little chance anyone would -- unless Harry suddenly felt possessed enough to do so, and frankly Fred wanted to have the task to himself.  
  
"Yeah," he said with yet another nod - "Just... not too hard. I'll be right behind you."  
  
He watched her expectantly, hands ready on the handle of his broom.

Hermione took a breath one last time, and – preparing for the worst, kicked off of the ground.  
With a great lifting feeling, the icy wind rushed past her and she gasped.  
All of a sudden she was far, way, way up in the air without a clue as to how she'd done it.  
She looked down and her eyes widened to the size of galleons.  
"Oh bloody hell," She breathed, then quickly clapped a hand to her mouth at the words that she had just said and her eyes widened even more.  
Almost immediately, her one hand that was keeping her on the broom nearly slipped and with a jolt of fear and adrenaline, Hermione grasped the broom with both hands and held on so tightly that her knuckles turned white.  
But even as horrifying as it was, the feeling was a thrill like no other – Fred was right. It was unbelievable and so utterly shocking for Hermione, that a small smile came upon her still astonished face.  
"Fred!' She said loudly, throat very dry from the cold. "I can't believe what I'm doing!"

Fred felt as if something very heavy was settling in the pit of his stomach, but it was not quite due to the sudden change of altitude. As he had promised, he was just a heartbeat behind Hermione - or rather, below her. The frigid cold wind that blew against his snow-dampened skin felt almost painful, like being pricked by several needles at once. He bore it by gritting his teeth and by putting his full attention towards Hermione. He pulled up to a stop beside her, his hair flying all over his face as he gazed at her. He kept one hand rested on his hip, ready to dart it out to grab her if she grew unsteady and fell. He was nearly rigid with cold and nervousness, but for her sake he tried to hide it, or attribute it more to cold.  
  
"You're doing great, Hermione!" he called, literally beaming at her.

Hermione looked around the field and nearly fell off her broom again.  
Before he beamed though, Hermione could detect and see the worry in Fred's face.  
"Oh Fred," She said, shivering from the cold and peering at the three hoops on the opposite side of the field in front of her. "Stop worrying, I'm not going to fall."  
She wasn't entirely sure of her own statement, but she didn't want Fred to worry about her.  
With a sudden jolt of daring, she leaned forward on the broom and felt the wind rush by her as she went zooming off down the pitch.  
It was quite frightening, to watch the hoops which were once a hundred feet away and very tiny – grow to the size of hubcaps in less than seven seconds.  
She turned around and smiled at Fred.

Fred gaped out of her with a slack-jawed expression on his face. Oh bloody hell, indeed. He laughed weakly when she stopped and looked at him, and shook his head in rank astonishment. Quick learner, she was. Feeling a bit more confident now, he gave an amused snort and leaned forward, flying after her. He didn't know where that bout of worrying came from. It was definitely an un-Fred-ish feeling. He felt the familiar "whoosh" in his ears, and he was missing the feeling of the bat in his hand. Not that he didn't have any bludgers to bash at at the moment - but it was still rather unsettling, like eating a meal without a fork or... something. It did not take very long for him to reach Hermione, and he turned in a sharp about-face as he stopped.  
  
"Not bad for a first try," he commented.

Hermione raised her eyebrows in a mock-disapproving manner, and tilted forward a bit.  
"Thank you Fred," She said in a dignified voice, turning around to look at the hoops.  
"Not quite big enough for someone to fit through, eh?" She laughed and let her hands unclench a little, though it was difficult as they were frozen to the wood.  
"It's not as bad as I thought, you know. . ."

Fred gave a slight snicker as he heard her first comment. He decided not to mention the fact that there had been a few instances in which a keeper or a random player would get stuck in or go through those rings. He realized that this probably wouldn't be something that Hermione would like to hear - best not point out some of the more violent sides of the sport just yet.  
  
"Of course not," he said. "And it only gets better with practice. We'll have you playing Quidditch before you now it!"  
  
Speaking of Quidditch, he still had some practicing to do. He ran his numb fingers through his hair and shook it out of his face, narrowing his eyes downwards at the field. His heart was beating a rather quick rhythm in his chest, and he was absolutely hating not doing anything for - about thirteen seconds? Maybe less...  
  
"Well, then," he smirked. "Now that you're airborne, what would you like me to teach you? Anything in particular?"

"Actually," Hermione said, adjusting herself on the broom and trying not to look down. "I myself would like to just watch you practice for the game tomorrow – Slytherin versus Gryffindor, you're going to need all the practice you can get." She smiled and peered around the pitch. "Besides, I need some time to get used to the broom and learn some of my own moves. Go on, I want to see how Beaters work..."

He knew that Hermione was right - but oddly enough, he felt a strange sort of reluctance to practice in front of her. Beater was a rather brutal position, after all, and he imagined what would happen if he did something extremely stupid as she watched him while he was practicing. What if he missed the bludger, and it whacked him right in the nose? Silly thought, really. That never happened - well, hardly ever happened -- er, well, it happened, but not that often. But still -- truth was, he hadn't practiced for a good while now, and he aught to get going.  
  
"All right, then," he said then, with a grin. "But I'm warning you, you will probably be obscenely bored."  
  
And without further ado, he sped towards the ground and dismounted quickly. He cast an uneasy look up at Hermione before he stalked off to the Locker Rooms.

Hermione frowned and laughed slightly. Bored? Of course not! Fred needed to stop assuming things about her.  
With a shiver, she looked around the pitch to see what it was like and nearly fell of her broom again from shock.  
She shook her head and gazed fixedly at the spot where she'd seen something peculiar.  
Him... out here? But why? He was supposed to be inside!  
But with a few blinks he was gone and Hermione was left completely speechless.  
She whipped her head around to make sure that Fred was either a) still in the locker rooms, or b) hadn't seen what she'd seen.  
If he did, there would be problems.

No - thankfully for Hermione, and unfortunately for him, Fred had not seen that mysterious thing that she had. But just a few moments later he came trundling back into the frosted field, a beater's club and in his hand. He had the chest that held the Quidditch balls under one arm and his broom under his other. He let the box drop at his feet, along with his broom, and lifted a hand to shield his eyes as he squinted up at Hermione. The sun was glinting off of the ice and snow and seemed oddly bright when he was looking upwards.  
  
"Y'alright, Hermione?" he called, hoping she could hear him from up there.  
  
He suddenly realized that there was a bit of a bad side about practicing with her in the air. What if the bludger got out of hand, and attacked Hermione? Good heavens, she was hardly steady on the thing yet, anyway!

Hermione snapped out of her kind of horrified trance and smiled down at Fred. "I'm fine Fred!"  
It suddenly occurred to her, what might happen if the bludger detected another living being, namely her, out on the field and zoomed towards it.  
She didn't know how to dodge bludgers – or how even to ride a broom yet let alone swerve to avoid getting her face broken in!  
But, since she wanted to see Fred practice so badly, she decided to cross that dangerous bridge when she came to it and simply waved at Fred, careful to keep her other hand firmly on the broom. "Go on!"  
She was feeling more and more comfortable on the broom by the second, so why couldn't she deal with a bludger than probably wouldn't chase her anyways?

Fred gave a nervous sort of grin. He knelt down next to the chest and tossed the lid open. For a split second he let his eyes travel over the balls in their places, and then he looked back up towards Hermione. He thought he would call out just one more warning before he let the bludger loose.  
  
"If it comes towards you--" he called, and paused, trying to decide what sort of advice he should give her. "Er - get to the ground as quickly as possible!"  
  
Guessing that he had heard her, he gave her a wave, and then got prepared. He grabbed his bat hesitantly in one hand, made sure that his broom was nearby for him to grab, and then pulled back the straps that kept one of the bludgers firmly in place. It flew up out of the chest instantly, and went zooming at once off to the goalposts opposite Hermione's side of the field. In a moment Fred had re-mounted his broom and was up in the air. He hovered there for a while, one eye on the bludger and one on Hermione. He flexed his fingers about the bat, ready to smack the bludger into kingdom-come the moment it came back to him. He gave it roughly about fifteen seconds, for it was already speeding his way.

With a horrifying jolt of panic, Hermione tried to keep her face calm as she watched the bludger fly around menacingly.  
As it zoomed toward Fred she got even more worried, but relaxed when she remember that not only did he have a club, but was trained to smack the little buggers from here to the opposite end of the field.  
She flew forward on the broom a bit, watching him intently to see just exactly how it was done and the techniques Fred knew.  
Hermione understood that being a Beater was a brutal position, and was interested to see how she would feel to see him in action.

Within moments, Fred had forgotten both about the cold and about being watched. When the bludger came zooming towards him, he drew his bat over his shoulder and hit the thing as hard as he could. There was a sharp "crack!" as the club met the ball, and the bludger when whizzing through the air. He gave a satisfied smirk, and then immediately flew after it, overtaking it a good distance down the pitch and hitting it again. He bashed the thing several more times, randomly and in no fixed pattern, just to get accustomed to the feel of the action again. He had a feeling that this would be a more relaxed training session than he was accustomed to. George and he tended to go overboard usually when they practiced, whacking the bludgers at each other with such force that it was easily more brutal than the actualy Quidditch match. The next time the bludger came around to him, he bashed it with particular brutality. This time he aimed for one of the goalposts, and he watched after it with a rather pleased look as it the heavy ball hit home with a thud. His smirk grew into a grin - ah, how he loved Quidditch. He would definitely miss it once he and George left Hogwarts. Hopefully they would still be able to play it now and again with their other brothers, but it just wouldn't be the same. He cast a quick look at Hermione when the bludger was still 'recovering'. He had been careful not to hit the ball in her direction, and he wondered how she was holding up.

Hermione was busy trying to experiment with the broom to see how daring she could actually be.  
She had shot forward really quickly and came to an abrupt halt, she had actually even tilted forward so her face was pointing to the ground and she was nearly vertical – but quickly brought herself back up again for fear of sliding off the end.  
When she had come up, she saw Fred hit the bludger towards the end of the field, and suddenly thought that he looked very brave and tough as he did so.  
He looked like he knew what he was doing, and to Hermione it was an odd way of showing how strong he was, even though the feeling made absolutely no sense to her.  
She was lost in thought a few moments, staring glassily at the spot where the bludger had one been.

Agh! Dammit!"  
  
As he was a bit distracted whilst watching Hermione, the bludger unexpectedly doubled up and came flying back to the beater. He saw it, true, but not in time to do anything but duck his head out of the way. It smashed directly in the shoulder, and he clung to the handle of his broom to keep from falling off. As it came around to finish off the attack, Fred had recovered enough to whack it away from him. It was not a very hard blow, but it went scattering away just the same. He gave a short snort of discust and tossed his head testily, glaring after it with a contemptuous expression. That was a mistake that he had not made in a very long time, and he rubbed at his slightly sore shoulder. It did not hurt very badly, but still. He was not sure who he was more annoyed at - the bludger or himself.

Hermione's eyes widened as she saw the bludger plow straight into Fred – and then narrowed at the bludger as if she were angry at it.  
Yet she was more worried than angry for Fred, hoping he wouldn't fall or be seriously injured. "Are you alright Fred?" She called, keeping half an eye on the bludger which had zoomed away from him when he hit it, and half a panicked eye on him.  
She tried to steer the broom towards him and succeeded, though it was difficult work.  
With an annoyed sigh, she finally got the broom to zoom towards him and pull right up beside his broom.

Fred let out an exhasperated sigh, but he did manage to flash her a small grin when Hermione came up to him - he still kept one eye on the bludger, of course, but it was circling around below them like an angry hornet swatted by a newspaper. He wouldn't make the mistake of looking away from it again. He was rather touched by her concern. Of course, trying to act all stoic, he made nothing of it. He refrained from rubbing at his shoulder again, though it did smart a little.  
  
"Ah, I'm fine," he said. "Thanks, though. Eh... you might want to move away... y'know, incase it decides to take a hit at you, too..."  
  
He said this as the bludger began to fly back up to them, and he moved forward a bit nervously to get in the path between it and Hermione.

Hermione flew a few feet away from Fred and hovered for a moment or two.  
She had been mesmerized by not only Fred's ability to recover from an accident so quickly, but how alert he was and watchful at the bludger at all times.  
No matter what, he knew where it was, and yet he had time enough to care for Hermione and tell her to move away.  
Just as she was thinking how incredibly thoughtful he was, the bludger zoomed back upwards towards Fred, just past him, and darted back down in her direction.  
With a jolt of fright, Hermione realized what it was doing a second before it would have hit her.  
Automatically, she threw the broom forward and began to speed off down the pitch to avoid the very fast and hard bludger from smashing her head off.  
It continued to follow quickly, like a dog chasing a mail-man, only at top speed and hundreds of feet in the air. Hermione's heart was beating quickly and her stomach felt sick as she flew through the air, not knowing what on earth to do.  
When the hoops got so close that she was about to hit them, she went vertical and began to soar straight up towards the clouds.  
With a quick check back, she saw that the bludger was still behind her, and took on a spurt of speed.

With an oath, Fred lunged forward on the broom and was on Hermione's tail on an instant. Great. Just great. He KNEW that this would happen! He was absolutely furious with himself. How the bloody hell had he let that bludger get past him!? If only Hermione was not going so bloody fast, he would be able to catch up to her and beat the bloody thing away, but he couldn't bloody well gain on her. In the Weasley's mind, a lot of things were very bloody at the moment. He followed Hermione and the bludger, like a cursing owner who was chasing his dog who was chasing the mailman at a dizzying height up in thin air.  
  
"Hermione!" he positively bellowed, dismayed when she started to fly directly upwards. "Down, Hermione! Try to get to the ground!"  
  
There was positively no use in going HIGHER - if the bludger caught up to her, there was no use falling at an even greater altitude!

Hermione heard Fred yell something, but blood was pounding so hard in her ears that it was indistinct and she could only worry more at something that might be important.  
With that frighteningly annoying buzz, the bludger was still following her; so even if she was to do a figure eight a thousand times, the annoying bugger would still be behind her like a magnet.  
She had no idea what to do and was already back at the other end of the pitch, so some quick thinking was needed, and the worst of it was – she couldn't stop moving because if she did the bludger would smash her head off.  
Having never been hit by a very solid piece of round... -- whatever it was, Hermione did not want to experience the feeling.  
So all of a sudden, she steered the broom towards the ground.  
It was even more frightening than going up, thought Hermione as she watched the snow get closer and closer – fearing impact.  
With a sharp intake of breath, when she was close enough, Hermione jumped off the broom, went tumbling into the icy snow and whipped out her wand, -- but it was too late.  
The bludger hurled itself directly toward her hand and smashed straight into it with a sickening crunch.  
Hermione was in too much pain to make sound, so she directed her other hand holding the wand at the bludger before it came back for a second attack, and shouted, "Incendio!" - blasting the little ball into a thousand fiery pieces.

Hermione was so tired from what had just happened, that without taking a second thought as to any of the consequences of blowing up school property, she fell into the soft yet cold snow and tried to cool off her hand, which felt as though a car had run over it.  
Then as she realized the oddness of it all, her face broke into a completely unbelievable smile. It was a weak, tired, exhausted and worried smile, but a smile all the same.

Fred stopped his broom short in surprise, hovering a little away from where Hermione had - er, landed. His mouth dropped open a bit as he saw the bludger explode into a thousand itty-bitty pieces. He was scandalized, of course, but all in all very impressed by the explosion. He dismounted as quickly as possible and, tossing broom and bat aside, he hurried over to the sprawled Hermione and knelt down beside her. He was rather breathless after this whole ordeal, and the adrenaline was taking its time to wear off, so he took a moment to speak.  
  
"Blimey, Hermione, you alright?"  
  
He refrained from mentioning that that was a wicked-cool curse, and his eyes widened a bit when he noticed that she was smiling - what on earth would she have to smile about at the moment? She could have been seriously hurt! Maybe she was hit in the head when she fell...

Hermione couldn't believe what she had just done either, and for that she sat up and examined all the shards of hot magical wood around them. "Bloody hell. . . what did I just do?" She said shakily, putting her hand that was not bruised and broken up to her mouth and her eyes widening at the words she had just said. "I need to stop saying that,"  
She wasn't really sure of what she was saying, still being a bit dazed from being a) chased down by a bludger, b) getting hit by a bludger, and c) blowing up a bludger.  
Her brown eyes searched around slowly and came to rest on Fred's face. "Oh my word. . ."

Fred laughed weakly, but he thought the entire situation was far from being humorous. He shook his head a bit. He caught sight of her maimed hand and gave a bit of a sympathetic wince. He extended his own hand to gently touch her wrist, careful not to actually cause her any more pain.  
  
"Ah, Hermione, I'm sorry --" he muttered. "Shouldn't have let that bludger get away..."  
  
He glanced at the ruins of the bludger, and he raised an eyebrow slightly. He wondered if they would get in trouble for that. He hoped that Madame Hooch had a spare somewhere, or they were going to have to postpone the Quidditch game tomorrow. A rather unpleasant jolt panged at his stomach at the thought, but he realized that at the moment Hermione was more important.  
  
"Anything broken?"

"I don't know," Hermione said, not liking the words that came out of her mouth.  
Goodness, two things in the past two minutes she had said that she didn't like – a swear word, and the fact that she didn't know something. Remarkable.  
"But even if anything is. . . Madam Pomfrey'll be able to mend it in a second – oh no. . ."   
Suddenly dawning realization hit her and reality fell back in place.  
"Fred," She said in a horrified tone, picking up a piece of bludger with her un-hurt hand. "This was school property. I just _blew up_ -- school – property. . ." She closed her eyes and fell back down into the snow again with a sigh.

Fred shook his head, and said, in all seriousness,  
  
"No, it's alright - you did it in self-defense, I don't think that anyone could hold it against you for that."  
  
Actually, he was certain that if Umbridge came across such information, she might have a field day with it - especially if she found out that two students were using the Pitch without permission whilst the incident occurred. The only thing for it, then, was to make sure that she never learned about it. Already he was trying to think up a reasonable explanation. Maybe he could say that it just - malfunctioned and fell, and - unexplainably exploded into a hundred pieces. That was the best he could think of, other than saying that Crabbe or Goyle sat on it.  
  
"Here, let's get you up to the Hospital Wing," he suggested, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Can you stand?"

"Of course I can," Hermione replied, shaking her head in a surreal sort of way and slowly standing. She had the strong urge to sit back down again, for now that the reality had come back, so had the pain she had so unpleasantly experienced when the bludger made contact with her hand.  
"Oh... this is terrible... what about the game tomorrow?" Her eyes widened and she inhaled sharply. "— the GAME – oh no, it'll be my fault the game is cancelled if that happens Fred... this is SERIOUS... this is so bad – this is awful..."


	11. The first fight

(Sorry! Missing post! Just imagine what he would say. :) (Will be filled in soon))

Hermione slowly slid Fred's hand off of her shoulder, not fully aware of why she was doing so. She smiled wryly and nodded. "Of course, off to the hospital wing. But I'm still worried sick that I'm going to be punished, that or the game will be cancelled tomorrow. That would be horrifying..."  
Her brown eyes darted around once in a very odd way, and she held her broken hand in her well one. This was turning out all very wrong, and she didn't like any of what had happened one bit.  
Maybe later she would look back and laugh at it.  
Or maybe not.  
  
(Sorry! Missing post! Just imagine what he would say. :) (Will be filled in soon))  
  
Hermione nodded and started walking up the lawn. It was quite frustrating, everything that had happened, but strangely amusing inside all the same.  
She had blown up a bludger.  
– Not just that, but she had blown up a bludger because it was chasing her.  
– She had been chased, by a bludger, down the Quidditch pitch, on a broom for her first time, then she had jumped OFF of the broom into the snow, gotten HIT by the bludger, and blown it into a thousand tiny pieces.  
This brought a sudden realization to the pain throbbing through her right hand. It was in immense pain and looking very dark red and purple.  
Hermione held it in her left hand gingerly and realized that she had left Fred in the snow.  
"S-sorry," She said, turning to look at him. "Come on then..."

Fred sighed and shook his head, and soon was trumping after Hermione. He lowered his eyes to watch the snow and ice crunch under his shoes for a little while, thinking back on what had just happened, until he caught up with her.  
  
"Well, Hermione," he began cautiously, eyeing her with a tentative smile. "I don't think you'll be forgetting your first ride on a broom any time soon."  
  
He decided not to mention that she'd make a wicked beater, if only she had a club, and NOT a wand. All in all, he was still very impressed by that explosion. She looked very fine on that broom when she was flying for her life, and her quick thinking definitely served her well and saved her from even worse injuries. 'Course, he decided to leave these compliments for later, when she was more in the mood to hear them.

"I agree," Hermione breathed as they reached the stone steps that led up to the castle. She tried to move the fingers in her broken hand, but it was throbbing so badly - and so bruised up, that moving it would have been as easy as willingly letting herself be bashed off a broom in the middle of air.  
But even though it was absurd, Hermione suddenly realized that if she could – without knowing the consequences – ... she would almost definitely go back up into the air, and get chased to the ground by a bludger all over again. It was one of the highlights of the day, and what made spending time with Fred so exciting.  
In a horrifying, not- knowing-what- was-going-to- happen sort of way.  
"So we'll go to the hospital wing, and after I get healed up go tell Madam Hooch about it, right..."  
Her voice trailed off at the end, leaving it as a question of course, but still – Hermione was not looking forward to telling the teacher that she had blown up a bludger.

"You know, I think you should just leave Hooch to me," Fred suggested. "I could nab her when you're still in the healing wing, and tell her that George and I busted it by accident while we were practicing. I'm sure George'll go along with it."  
  
He nodded to himself. Even if they weren't on best of terms at the moment, he felt confident that his brother'll be on his side in a moment. They could even claim that they were trying to bewitch it, and their spell backfired - at this point they'd get nothing more than a slap on the wrist, at best, if it didn't reach Umbridge's ears.  
  
"And if Pomfrey asks what happened, you could just say it went after you when you were watching us."  
  
A perfectly plausible excuse. He was sure he could pull it off without any hitches, as long as someone had not actually _seen_ what happened between them - and he definitely had not seen anyone in that pitch except for Hermione and himself.

"I don't know," said Hermione skeptically, now feeling warmer once they had gone inside the halls of the castle. "To lie - like that?"  
Truthfully, underneath – she was panicked. Maybe Fred would be suspicious that she didn't want to lie, because the real reason she didn't was that – someone may _have_ seen what happened.  
The person who she had seen and wondered why he was out there watching them may have stayed to watch, and that person might even squeal on her and Fred if they lied.  
But Fred didn't know this, and wouldn't find it peculiar in the slightest that Hermione wouldn't want to lie – because she was, well. -- Hermione.  
Or would he?

Hermione may be Hermione, but why would she turn down a perfectly good alibi? His brow furrowed perplexedly at her. She didn't want to be punished, did she? He knew very well that when it came to lying to professors Hermione was definitely sketchy about it at best, and probably would have given him a lecture about it otherwise, but this time hesitating to do so seemed even a little bit ridiculous.  
  
"To lie – like that – would be purely self defense. Come on, Hermione. There's no proof that we did anything otherwise. Do you WANT to be suspended?"  
  
He couldn't have asked a more absurd question even if he had asked a niffler if it wanted a fistful of gold. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, eyes set on Hermione as he waited for an answer. He, after all, had seen and heard nobody – he had no reason to believe that there had been anyone in the Pitch at all.

"Of course I don't want to be suspended, Fred. But like you said, it was just self defense. –– Why can't we just ––..." Hermione bit her lip and avoided Fred's gaze. "Why can't we just... tell them the truth? You went out to go practice for the game tomorrow, and I was flying too – and the bludger chased me, and since I didn't know what to do, never having been on a broom before – I did whatever I could to not get my head broken off? It would work, wouldn't it??"  
She tried with all her might to keep her voice steady, as if this were the easiest option in the world – but if Fred disagreed then there would be a few problems.

The Weasley twin blinked at her several times, trying to put some sense to what he was hearing.  
  
The... truth. Hermione wanted him to tell...  
The truth.  
  
He blinked again, scowled, and scratched his head as if he just couldn't understand the concept or use of such a thing. Not only did she want him to tell the truth – but she wanted him to tell the truth when it could get them into trouble, if Hooch was in a particularly sour mood about what happened.  
  
"Er... well – I – well... I suppose we could, but..."  
  
He shook his head with a sigh. He ran his fingers through his hair and cast a look about him at the hall, wondering if there would be anyone to overhear them.  
  
"It would be a mistake, Hermione," he mumbled at last – morally, of course they were obligated to tell the truth, but he had never before hesitated to use a lie when it could cover their arses. "But why are so against it? What harm could a single lie do?"

"Someone might have seen us," Hermione said quickly, eyes wide as they walked. She would never tell Fred what she saw until her dying day, but it might have shone through her face, (being awful at lying) so she looked away and tried to focus on a statue down the hall.  
"You never know. And if that certain someone saw us, then that someone could tell on us and we'd be in even worse rubbish than before." She knew she had spoken too fast. Why was she so terrible at lying? She'd prefer some other curse other than this one, for it was really getting on her nerves.

At this, Fred finally stopped short. If he were not carrying both brooms, he probably would have crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her – instead he just settled on narrowing his eyes. If there wasn't something fishy about this whole situation, then he was Neville's toad.  
  
"Is there something about this that you're not telling me?" he asked bluntly. "Was someone watching us just before, Hermione?"  
  
Okay, it was a bit unsettling to think that there could have been someone there, watching them – but if Hermione _knew_ about it and didn't tell him – well, that would just be a lot creepier. He lifted his eyebrows slightly as he waited for an answer, and would have even tapped his foot if he wanted to make her chuckle, but he was very serious at the moment. Everything she was saying thus far was suspicious, and even if Hermione was a bit distracted by pain right now, her arguments were ridiculous and unfounded.

Hermione turned to Fred and her worried look dropped at once. There he was – standing in front of her with brooms by his side and his eyes positively hawklike.  
How dare he get irritated with her! She just didn't want them to get in trouble!  
"Fred!" She said angrily, brown eyes narrowing as well. "I just don't want us to get in trouble for telling a lie – when we could get off easily by telling the truth? What's _wrong_ with that?"  
She herself knew perfectly well that she was avoiding the question Fred had asked her – but if you were in her position, wouldn't you want to avoid it too?

"I don't _know_ Hermione!" he very nearly shouted. "What _is_ wrong with that!?"  
  
His heart was beating very quickly, and he was steadily becoming more and more annoyed, to the point where his mood could be justified as downright angry. This thing had been blown way out of proportion, and he believed that Hermione could not have POSSIBLY picked any less appropriate words for her defense. He didn't even think of lowering his voice or trying to settle this quietly - it was mere animal instinct to return sharp words with some of his own.  
  
"If you would just tell ME the truth, we wouldn't have this problem in the first place now, would we?"

Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. It sent an odd nasty pang through her stomach when Fred yelled at her, so, beginning to panic she shouted right back, "FINE Fred – if you /really/ must know –– yes." She was breathing quickly now, and her heart was racing. Anger was not something she liked, but at Fred's actions, she most certainly was.  
There. She had said it. She had told him.  
"YES there was someone there whom I saw, YES someone was out there, and YES that someone may have seen!" Like Fred, she didn't trouble to lower her voice.

Fred was going to snap back with something along the lines of: "Well WHO the bloody hell WAS it?" But the reality, apparently, hit him, and all he got out was:  
"Well wh--"  
  
He realized that this probably wasn't the very best thing to ask, no matter how the question burned in him. He did get what he wanted, after all. Was it right of him to simply go with the momentum and possibly push her over the edge? Flabbergasted, he simply gaped at Hermione for several seconds. For once, he was completely speechless. He realized now that he was supposed to confess to Hooch, whether it would mean eating crow or not. And he didn't like it. Especially since it was all thanks to Hermione's nameless stalker.

Hermione didn't know why Fred stopped talking, and frankly, didn't care.  
She was extremely irritated at the moment, and also confused as to why she actually was.  
"What? What Fred –– does that /bother/ you?" She asked sharply, staring at him. "That someone was watching and I didn't inform you of it? You seemed like you feel betrayed enough!"

"What, Hermione, do you WANT me to feel betrayed!?" he demanded, his anger kindled once more. "Is that what you want? Fine, well, FINE! You have it!"  
  
He took a step closer to her, his eyes blazing furiously.  
  
"WHO was out there?" he was beyond the point of shouting, and spoke in a low, growling tone. He flung his free hand behind him to point accusingly down the direction they came. "WHY was he watching us? WHY do you think he would snitch on us? And WHY the bloody hell didn't you tell me?"  
  
He let out a frustrated snarl and backed away. He was getting sick and tired of being lied to; even Hermione was only lying by omission. How could their day turn out like this?  
  
"You can distrust me all you want, Hermione, but I want a reason for it, damn it!"

"It's not YOU I distrust!" Hermione shouted back, very well near tears, but not quite yet. Anger was more at the moment. "I distrust /me/!"  
Yelling at Fred made an unpleasant feeling settle in her stomach that she didn't like one bit. She raised her hand once and let it flop back down by her side. "You're the ONLY person I trust more than Ron and Harry, Fred – but there are some things you just /can't know/! Do you HAVE to know everything? NO! I can keep certain things to myself if I want, thank you very much! And it doesn't really /matter/ if Draco Malfoy was dow—"  
Hermione stopped suddenly and her eyes widened. She had just said something that she terribly did not want to say.  
Her hand flew to her mouth and she took a step backward, horrified.  
What would Fred think now?

"DRACO!?"  
  
He could not help it - he shouted it before he could think twice about it, and afterwards he gaped at Hermione with a wildly incredulous look. He thought this all was very unfair. He would have liked to point out the fact that it was she who made him go on at the first place, and it wasn't right for her to accuse him of sticking his nose where it didn't belong, but this whole new development stopped him in his tracks.  
  
Malfoy. Fred couldn't believe it, and yet, oddly enough, part of him could. Fred grit his teeth to keep from shouting something further, smoldering as he stared at the very shocked girl in front of him.  
  
"How am I supposed to respond to THAT, then?" he asked in an undertone. "Turn my back and pretend I didn't hear it? I mean, it's not my right to know these things, after all, though I WOULD like to know why the slimy little bag of --"  
  
He scowled, and trailed off, deciding it probably was best not to finish that sentence.

Hermione sighed and knew it was over. She could never keep going like this without telling Fred.  
Breathing quickly, she looked at him with her narrowed yet still angrily sparking eyes. "Remember the letter I hid from you awhile back?" She said slowly, trying hard not to blink. It would be difficult telling Fred this.  
And wait! –– Right before the Quidditch game? Was that entirely wise for her to do?  
Maybe she would promise to tell Fred Sunday, after the Quidditch match so he could focus on playing and not about the letter she had received from Draco. Yes – that would be best.  
"It was from Draco Fred –– and now I know you'll be dying to know what it is and probably hate me for this – but if I promise to my very grave to tell you Sunday what it is, will you not be angry with me and focus on winning the game tomorrow? Because I know it'll distract you..."

After that answer, Fred was absolutely sure that he would have preferred Hermione not telling him anything at all. He groaned and turned his eyes upwards, as if turning to heaven for patience, but he did not find much inspiration from the ceiling. Then he tried closing his eyes and counting to ten. He heard someone say once that it was a good way to keep your temper. He noticed vaguely that he was not very angry anymore, just about as exasperated as a person can be. But it was all no use. He was still just as astonished and flabbergasted as before.  
  
"Hermione..." he said calmly, patiently, lowering his eyes to set an even gaze on her. "You do realize that there is absolutely nothing that can distract me more than /not/ knowing what is in that letter?"

"Fred," Hermione said sternly, realizing the same thing Fred had at that moment – that she was not angry any more. "– knowing what was in the letter will do nothing but distract you so much that seeing Draco would make you /fall off your broom/. I assure you."  
She was not exaggerating. – She was Hermione, of course she wouldn't exaggerate. What was in the letter was really /that/ confusing and distracting. "You'll find out on Sunday, when there are no classes – and just a relaxing day where we can talk the entire time and catch up on essays we've missed..."  
Well, the last part of the sentence really wouldn't make Fred happier, so she quickly added, "– Or just laze about the lake and forget about studies for a few hours. Really. I'll tell you everything then."

(Sorry! Missing post! Just imagine what he would say. :) (Will be filled in soon))

Hermione nodded slowly. She didn't like fighting with Fred – and officially decided it at that moment.

Who would like fighting with someone you care about?

She smiled wryly at him, said, "Okay. I'll see you later I guess..." With one last glance, she turned and began down the hall, feeling somber and ashamed with herself for thinking she could yell at him.


	12. An Apology for Hermione

Later that evening, after Hermione had gotten her mangled hand fixed and told Madam Pomfrey the truth, (who willingly agreed to help her get better and not tell anyone, because it was in self defense,) she went back to the common room to relax in the quietness of the fire-light and think over the days events.

When she entered it though, she discovered it quite different than quiet and relaxing.

The atmosphere was excited and noisy – all attention centered on Lee Jordan, who had managed to talk back to Professor Umbridge in the hall and gotten a weeks worth detention for it. He was a hero.

Hermione sighed and tiredly pushed her way through the crowd all asking Lee what he had said for the hundredth time, and say down in a chair by the fire.

Fred had already flopped down in one of the oversized armchairs by the fire by the time Hermione had come over. His interview with Hooch had involved a great deal more lecturing and finger-waving, but all in all it had gone out without a hitch. They had spare bludgers, much to his relief, though they were relatively expensive and Hooch had a thing or two to say about his irresponsibility, first about practicing without the presence of any of the rest of the team, and then letting someone inexperienced fly on a broom without her presence.  
  
He looked up with a tired sort of smile when Hermione settled into a chair nearby. He had already given Lee his congratulations and all that rot, and he was tired now and was actually just a few minutes away from trumping up to bed to get an early start tomorrow. He was sprawled, sitting the wrong way over his chair with his legs sprawled over one of the arms. He straightened, though, when he caught sight of her.  
  
"'Lo, Hermione."

Hermione closed her eyes and nodded in an exhausted sort of way. – Exhausted, from thinking, that was.  
She had done much of it the rest of the day, about arguing with Fred, (which didn't make her feel any better,) the game the next morning, and every else under the sun.  
Which was why she was so tired – and why she murmured, "Fred," before putting her hand over her eyes and taking a deep breath.

Fred had done a bit of thinking, too. Yes, believe it or not, he was capable of premeditated thought sometimes, and did not rely entirely on his famous, spur-of-the-moment bouts of brilliance. So it was that he made a nervous sort of sound in the back of his throat, and sat up a bit straighter. He leaned closer to Hermione, eyes fixed on her, and he said slowly:  
  
"Listen, Hermione. I wanted to tell you something..."  
  
He paused, considering. Did he really have to do this? He already knew what she would say, and there really was no reason to go on about it when she was /obviously/ tired... He shook his head slightly. No, he had to say it, or he'd feel guilty forever.  
  
"Well, I'm sorry," he mumbled quickly, as if hoping to get over with it as quickly as possible. "For being cross with you earlier. I now I shouldn't have, and I had no reason to badger you, either..."

Hermione did not speak for a few moments, then she shook her head. "No... you shouldn't apologize Fred," She said, rubbing her tired eyes. It really wasn't his fault, so why should she accept an apology that she didn't need to hear?  
"You were just curious, like Ron and Harry always are. I was the one who shouldn't have snapped at you for it... I'm really sorry, I didn't meant to get so angry – I was just used to telling off Ron for his prying, but you're different, and I didn't mean to do that to you, oh – I..." She stopped and realized that she was rambling. So she settled for staring at the ceiling. "I'm really sorry for categorizing you under my problems with Ron and letting it out on you..."

Fred shuffled a bit uneasily, lifting a hand to rub at the back of his neck. A thought just occurred to him. He didn't like it, but he thought he might as well convey it to Hermione.  
  
"You know..." he began hesitatingly, still keeping his voice low, incase /someone/ happened to hear him and take offense to what he was about to say. "Though I hate to admit it, Hermione, Ron /is/ my brother and... well, we probably have a lot more in common than I would like to think."  
  
He offered her a slightly strained smile.  
  
"You /would/ tell me if I ever started to act like such an insensitive prig, wouldn't you?"  
  
Sure, Fred loved his family, and was loyal to each and every one of the Weasley's to his death, but there were certain attributes that were strictly Weasley-ish and were not very complimentary – priggishness, he was afraid, was one of them.

Hermione smiled to herself and pondered this for a moment.  
/Would/ she tell him if he was being arrogant and priggish? Her first answer was no, because she would hate to offend him – but when she really thought about it, - yes. She definitely would tell him, and probably in a not- so- nice way too.  
"Of course I would, Fred," She said to him quietly, deciding to answer rather than leave him in the dark. "But so far you haven't been one – and I don't think you ever will be. It's not like you."  
Again, she spoke the truth. Fred was kind and caring, not to mention protective. She could never see him hurting her in a genuinely mean way.

Relieved, the Weasley twin grinned. He would never intentionally hurt Hermione, but it was comforting to know that she would let him down (probably none too gently, either) if he lost his head. Even if he wasn't prone to being nasty, /that/, at least, could be counted as one of his faults.  
  
"I hope not..." he murmured. Then he yawned, and rose slowly to his feet. "I think I'll head off to bed now. Want an early start tomorrow, after all..."  
  
He blinked at the load of Gryffindors still packed into the Common Room. He shrugged, and then stepped a few paces over to Hermione. Placing a hand on the back of her chair to balance himself, he leaned over to kiss her innocently on the forehead.  
  
"Night, 'Mione," he said with a grin, pulling back and then walking off to the dormitories without further ado.

Goodnight Fred," Hermione smiled when Fred kissed her on the forehead and continued to stare into the fire when he left. He was very sweet, when she thought about it. It was no wonder that she had feelings for him.  
With a sigh after a few minutes, Hermione got up and drifted into the girls' dormitories, thoughts dwelling on Fred all the way until her head hit the pillow and she fell asleep.


	13. The Quidditch Game Scene

The next morning when she'd succeeded in waking up late, dashing into clothes and hurrying downstairs into the Great Hall for breakfast, Hermione was thoroughly excited about the Quidditch match.  
She couldn't wait to see the game played – and hopefully won.   
Hermione entered the Great Hall amidst the normal buzz and chatter of students, peering around to see if Fred was already there, and at the same time keeping an eye out for her two best friends, who were also on the Quidditch team and would have something to do with the game.

"I still can't believe you let that bludger get her, mate..."  
  
"Hey. I didn't /let/ it get her."  
  
"I know, I know, but still..."  
  
Fred snorted, shaking his head as his brother disguised his laughter by cramming a piece of toast into his mouth. He hadn't told George about what happened yesterday, but somehow or another his twin had found out, and had already begun teasing him about it. He didn't really mind, actually - a snickering, jibing George was much more sufferable than a slightly jealous, surly George.  
  
As he had planned, Fred had woken up at the bloody crack of dawn, but hadn't exactly done much with his time except fret a bit and suffer the rallying presence of Angelina and the rest of his team-mates.  
  
George nudged him, prompting him to look up when Hermione stepped into the Great Hall. He grinned, and raised a hand to wave to her.  
  
"Hey, Hermione!"

Hermione spotted the hand Fred had waved and walked briskly over, keeping her bag on her shoulder. She scooted in beside him and pulled a piece of toast towards her, buttering it immediately and flashing him and his brother a smile. "Hey Fred, - George. - Excited about the game? - I certainly am."  
She took a bite and let her bag sit beside on the bench. No matter what, except for in extreme situations when she was very excited or very stressed, Hermione always kept her cool. She had this aura about her that made people feel like she was very confident and content in herself – even if she wasn't on the inside so much.

"'Course I am," Fred replied with a grin, moving over and bumping George down a space to make room for her. "I can't wait. It's going to feel good, crushing Slytherin this year..."  
  
He didn't elaborate /why/. But it seemed that a certain member of the Slytherin Quidditch team had been successfully getting on his nerves lately, and he was eager to see the look on his face when Slytherin was massacred. Again.  
  
"Doesn't it always feel good, though?" George asked curiously, arching an eyebrow at his twin.  
  
He shrugged, and then leaned back to get a look at Hermione from behind his brother. "Say, have you seen Ron about yet? I wanted to talk to him before the game, but he's made himself scarce this morning."

Hermione shook her head and finished off the toast. Goodness she was hungry. Perhaps it was just nervousness, but she certainly felt different about this game than all the previous ones.

"No I haven't seen Ron actually." She replied, deciding to say something audible in case George hadn't heard her.  
"But they should – oh," She stopped when she spotted none other than her two best friends enter the hall, one looking haunted and one grinning.  
"Look – there she is." Harry said to Ron, who for some reason moaned when he saw Hermione.  
As the two passed the Slytherin table there was an upsurge of noise; Harry looked around and saw that nearly every student at the table was wearing small, silver, crown-shaped badges. Some waved at Ron with hoots of laughter and Harry knew that they were up to no good.

"I must've been mental to do this," Ron said in a croaky whisper as they sat down on Hermione's right, Ron closest to her and Harry two seats away.

"/Mental/. - Oh and Hermione," He gulped and turned away from the food that didn't look very appetizing to face his brown-haired friend. "– There is – er – something I need to tell you."  
Hermione had scowled when Ron claimed fear for his sanity, but then looked confused. "Yes - Ron?"  
"I borrowed your library copy of Quidditch through the ages, looking for tips to help me during the game – and I – er, accidentally broke the binder."  
Hermione blinked and tried not to show disappointment after thinking of the prospect of turning in a broken book on her clean record. "Oh – that's, alright Ron." She said quickly. Ron had set his forehead on the wooden table in front of them. "Don't worry about it. We can just tell Madam Pince about what happened. She'll understand. – I think."  
Madam Pince was very strict and therefore Hermione couldn't say whether she actually would forgive them or not.  
"But Ron, now, don't be thick," said Harry firmly, trying to show him a choice of cereals. "You're going to be fine. It's normal to be nervous. That's just what you're going through..."

"I'm rubbish," Ron croaked into the table. "I'm lousy. I can't play to save my life. What was I thinking?"  
"Get a grip," said Harry sternly. "Look at that save you made with your foot the other day, even Fred and George said it was brilliant."

Fred gazed at his brother wordlessly for a moment or so. Oddly enough, he wasn't feeling so annoyed with him as he had been of late. He was too excited about the Quidditch game, and Ron /was/ in a rather pathetic state of mind at the moment - very deserving of his pity. He smirked, remembering said move that Harry spoke of. That had been a rather interesting save.  
  
"Yeah, that was wicked cool Ron," he offered. "You'll do fine."  
  
Or, at least, he hoped so. He had forgotten about Ron's - er - lack of skill... ah well. They had Harry. As long as he got the snitch before Malfoy, then they had nothing to worry about. He glanced at what was left of his breakfast - a few spoonfuls of cereal and some toast - but wasn't very hungry. It wasn't that he was nervous, of course - he was never nervous. But he was really eager to start whacking bludgers at those flying slime-balls otherwise known as Slytherins and knocking them off their brooms.  
  
Oh well. At least Fred never even pretended to repress violent tendencies.

Ron looked up with a tortured face. "That was an accident," He moaned miserably. "I didn't mean to do it – I slipped off my broom when none of you were looking and I was trying to get back on and I kicked the Quaffle by accident."  
Hermione grimaced and Harry blinked, trying to recover from this unpleasant surprise. "Well. A few more accidents like that and the game's in the bag, isn't it?"  
Hermione had the strong urge to giggle, but decided against it since it would probably hurt Ron's feelings. She wondered how the twins would take it.

Fred stared blankly at his brother for a moment or two, almost as if he hadn't comprehended a word of what he had just said. He heard George groan. Finally he gave a snort of laughter and shook his head. Oddly enough, he found this more amusing than he did disappointing. How /was/ it that Ron could possibly be so poor at Quidditch, when basically everyone else in their family (with the exception of Percy, of course) had at least a bit of skill?  
  
"Ron," he declared in an amusing tone. "You're priceless."  
  
He looked sidelong at Harry, smirking.  
  
"It's up to you then, mate. If you don't catch that snitch, we're done for."

"Yeah," Harry grinned as Hermione dove into her bag and withdrew her Gryffindor scarf, gloves, and a few rosettes. "Ron, it's a good sign, I never feel you perform as well in exams if you're not a bit nervous," She said to him heartily, attaching two of the rosettes to her robes and turning to Fred to pin one on him.  
Just then Luna Lovegood walked by with a giant lion hat perched on top of her head and Hermione made a small noise in the back of her throat as she adjusted the rosette on Fred.  
"Oh for goodness sake..."

Fred raised an eyebrow bemusedly, eyeing the rosette that was being attached to his robes. He was about to comment about it when he was interrupted by her disapproving ... noise. He grinned, and turned his head to see Luna and her extraordinary hat. Of course, he thought it rather cool, but was completely aware of what Hermione's opinion of it was.  
  
"Rather nifty thing, that," he commented innocently. "Would you like one of those for Christmas, Hermione?"  
  
He turned back to the brown-eyed girl, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

Hermione finished pinning the rosette on Fred to give him a disapproving smile, her eyes sparkling back. "Oh sure Fred, I would love one – as long as you would like a nice, hefty, /book/ in return..." She laughed slightly and wrapped her scarf around her neck. "It's going to be cold out there Ron, and you're going to get hungry. Eat something please."

But Ron's face had returned to the table again and she gave up with a sigh. "I'm supporting Gryffindor," She heard Luna say to Harry. "Look what it does. . . ."  
The lion on her head gave a great roar and Hermione jumped quickly, like many of the other students in the hall.  
"It's good, isn't it?" The blonde said happily in her misty voice.  
"Positively wonderful," Hermione muttered.  
"– I wanted to have it chewing up a serpent to represent Slytherin, you know, but there wasn't time. Anyway . . . good luck, Ronald!" She drifted away.

Intellectual book indeed. Hermione knew him far too well.  
  
"Touché, Hermione," he replied, nodding approvingly.  
  
Hearing Miss Lovegood's last words, Fred snorted. His narrowed eyes followed the Ravenclaw as she wandered away.  
  
"Oy, what about me? I'm going to be playing today, too, you know..."  
  
His muttered words weren't really loud enough to reach her. He shook his head, finding it amazing that one of his brother's strongest supporters was going to be Loony Luna.

"Don't worry Fred – she doesn't matter." Hermione said briskly, putting on her gloves and pulling back some of her hair. "You don't need her, - you have /me/ supporting you." She gave him a slightly mischievous smile as she began to adjust the rosette and robes of his again.

Suddenly Angelina, Katie, and Alicia – the three Chasers on the Gryffindor Quidditch team – came up to where Harry, Ron, Fred and George were and the Captain said, "When you're ready, we're going to go straight down to the pitch, check out conditions and change."

"We'll be there in a bit," Harry told her, watching as Ron clutched his stomach and moaned. "Ron's just got to have some breakfast."

Angelina nodded and the three girls left.

Fred nodded vaguely in Angelina's direction - the chasers were already walking off, anyway. George, though, leaped up right away and bounded after them. Fred chuckled, catching Hermione's hands and holding them fast away from both robes and rosette. He leaned closer to her, grinning.  
  
"Oh, I know that," he said quietly. "And you're better than six Luna's with their lion hats all in a row."  
  
He arched an eyebrow at her, narrowing his eyes a bit, though not in an unfriendly way.  
  
"Mind if I have a good-luck kiss, then?" he ventured hopefully.  
  
He didn't really care that they were in the middle of the Great Hall, and most of the students would probably have their eyes on the Gryffindor Quidditch team anyway. But he was polite enough to ask, at least.

"Only if it'll give you good luck, Fred..." Hermione replied, eyes dancing and stomach squirming. She still couldn't get over the surreal-ness of it all.  
Ron's ear twitched as he heard the word kiss, and he shot straight up, turning to stare avidly at his best friend and brother. His face remained white, and of course – he was still nervous and sick as hell - but he was still shocked. That was an odd phrase to come out of Fred's mouth to Hermione, even if he knew that they were an item. Last he had seen his brother would be likely to be saying, "Come on now, Hermione – testing the sweets out is perfectly fine with the students!" – Certainly not asking for a good luck kiss.

And did he mean good luck kiss on the cheek... or lips?!  
Harry smirked to himself, half glad that Ron's mind was off the subject of Quidditch for a brief moment.

His brother's abrupt movements had caught Fred's eye. He had almost forgotten that Ron was there at all. His eyes flittered away from Hermione for a moment, taking in his brother's absolutely shocked expression. He smirked, but decided that it would be best to ignore him just for now. It would be better, after all, for him to have something else other than Quidditch to focus on for the present. He turned back to Hermione, his smirk replaced by a completely sincere smile.  
  
"Of course it will," he said with conviction.  
  
At the moment he was almost sure that it would, actually. He always felt even more light-hearted than usual when he was with her, and was certain that a kiss would have him bash the bludger through the heads of the Slytherins - 'specially Draco. He leaned in to kiss the brown-eyed girl.

But for the second time since she had fallen for Fred, Hermione did not kiss him back. She slid a finger up between their faces and pressed it to his lips with a small smile. "I think Ron has enough on his mind to worry about – so let's not add something else that will probably disturb him," She said very quietly, so only he could hear. "We can..." She smirked inwardly to herself at the oddity of what she was about to say, and laughed softly. "... we can continue the good-luck kiss later after you've won, alright? Consider it incentive to win. - Or you might not get your wish..."

The Weasley twin lifted his eyebrows in surprise. He was not exactly sure whether to feel frustrated, annoyed, amused or mildly impressed. He would never have thought Hermione was possible of doing and saying such things. It was amazing that he was able to learn more about her personality the longer he stuck around her.  
  
He eyed his brother begrudgingly. She was probably right. Not that he would say it, but Ron had probably seen enough to keep him distracted, and he didn't want his brother angry with him during the game, after all. He shook his head, mock-scowling at her as he pulled back a bit.  
  
"You are... you are..." he shook his head, unable to hold back his grin. "I'm going to hold you to that, Hermione."  
  
He squeezed the hand that he still held once, and then stood up, ready to go after George and the rest of the team.  
  
"See you in a bit then, Ron."

Hermione suppressed a laugh and smiled a little distantly at Fred. He sure could be cute when he wanted to.

"I'll look forward to it." She said to him, standing up and watching Ginny approach them out of the corner of her eye, knowing that she would want to walk to the game with her. "That's for sure."   
Ron turned back to face his untouched food, and Harry blinked, not knowing what to make of the matter. He settled for trying to convince Ron to eat some more, before watching Hermione and Ginny take off for the pitch, (Hermione waving a coy smile at Fred and a normal wave to Ron and Harry) and turning back to face his tortured friend.

The game in the sky was just as brutal and menacing as ever – with the added pain of poor Ron, who was getting highly discouraged when the Slytherin's in the crowd began to sing a most annoying song.

When Hermione heard it, her eyes narrowed so she looked positively hawk-like and she muttered, "Oh you twisted, foul, evil little bugs..."

Weasley is our King  
Weasley is our King  
He always let's the Quaffle in,  
Weasley is our King  
  
Harry was so angry in mid-air, that he abandoned his search for the snitch and glared at the mass of green and silver, which continued to sing.  
  
Weasley cannot save a thing,  
He cannot block a singe ring,

That's why all the Slytherin's sing:  
Weasley is our King.

Hermione blew some air out of her mouth and shook her head, positively shaking with rage. This was not good – Ron was going to get dis-heartened and allow more goals in, all because they were singing that rotten song...  
  
" – so it's the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper, Weasley, brother of Beaters, Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team – come on Ron!"  
But the scream of delight came from the Slytherin end: Ron had let the Quaffle in.  
  
After a very angry and distracted game came near an end, Harry caught the Snitch and won the game, hoping that this would cheer Ron up some-what, but the red-headed Keeper slid off his broom and exited the pitch the opposite way, looking sullen and depressed.

Hermione saw the snitch get caught, laughed out-loud and began to make her way down through the crowd of people towards the pitch to see everyone.

Fred had never been so infuriated during a game in all of his life. That... that /song/... only a Slytherin could have sunk so low. For once, he pitied Ron thoroughly, and was angry on his behalf. If he had been in his shoes, he had no idea what he would have done, but he had a hunch that it wouldn't have been very pretty. He was sorely tempted once or twice to pull off a few illegal moves - like pretending that he had mistaken one of the Slytherin Chasers' heads as a bludger - but he decided against it, muttering curses under his breath as he played instead and sending the occasional anxious look at Ron.  
  
As soon as the game was over, his anger faded, replaced at once by overpowering relief and elation - they had won! Harry caught the snitch - Ron was off the hook, and the Slytherins could sing themselves hoarse. They were nothing more than bags of hot air that would be dealt with soon enough. He dismounted along with the rest of his team, laughing and whooping uproariously along with everyone else. He couldn't wait to catch up with Hermione. Not only would he get that kiss he wanted, but he would finally figure out what the bloody hell that letter was about.  
  
He didn't even notice Ron's departure, as he went about congratulating and pounding the backs of everyone within reach. He was in a sort-of happy, adrenaline and victory-induced haze. Grinning from ear to ear, Fred moved forward, pushing past Angelina in order to shake Harry's hand, George in tow.

"Saved Weasley's neck, haven't you?" Came Malfoy's sneering voice over the roar of the crowds. "I've never seen a worse Keeper . . . but he was /born in a bin/. . . . Did you like my lyrics, Potter?"  
Hermione was nearly there – down the steps and fighting through the crowd – she saw the Gryffindor team all together near the center of the pitch.

"We wanted to write another couple of verses!" Malfoy called, as Katie and Alicia hugged Harry. "But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly –– we wanted to sing about his mother, see ––"

"Talk about sour grapes," said Angelina.

Harry was ignoring Malfoy, completely disgusted by his behavior. Sour grapes indeed, he was acting like an idiot. He turned to Fred, who was coming to shake his hand and pumped it up and down vigorously with a grin on his face.

"–– we couldn't fit in _useless loser_ either –– for his father, you know ––" Draco was saying.

At first, Fred had not even heard the Slytherin seeker's jibes. As a matter of fact, he had forgotten about the stupid prat altogether. But when the words pertaining to his father fell onto his ears, the Weasley realized what was being said. Immediately the good mood vanished. He stiffened, mid-hand-shake. He turned around slowly, looking at Malfoy with a thoroughly hostile glint in his eyes. He was vaguely aware of Angelina seizing his arm. He knew very well that she spoke the troth - the slick-haired seeker was speaking only out of spite, and all he wanted was to goad them on - but how /dare/ he? Everything he hated about the Malfoy was brought to the surface, and he wanted nothing more than to pound Draco's face in until he was unrecognizable. He didn't, though. He let Angelina hold him back. He had to restrain himself, or he'd be playing right into his hands...

"–– but you like the Weasleys, don't you Potter? Said Malfoy, sneering. "Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't se how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles even the Weasleys' hovel smells okay ––"

Hermione finally reached the snow-covered grounds of the pitch and saw Malfoy calling after them as they all huddled together over the noise of the crowds, and Angelina grabbing Fred's arm. Her smile faded.

Then she saw Ron walking away on the opposite end of the pitch and frowned, feeling the sudden weight of sympathy on top of annoyance at Malfoy.

With a sigh, she began to walk towards the group of people in the middle of huge pitch all celebrating the win of Gryffindor.

Harry grabbed hold of George to stop him going towards Malfoy.  
Hermione too, realized what Malfoy was saying and her eyes narrowed.  
"Or perhaps," said Malfoy, leering as he backed away. "you can remember what /your/ mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it ––"

That was it. That was the last straw. That son of a serpent was going to _die_, and Fred was going to be more than happy kill him. What right had he to insult his family like that? To insult Harry's mother? To stalk Hermione when she went with him to the Quidditch pitch? To send her suspicious letters? And most importantly, to hex her! To hurt her like that for the rest of her life...! That put him far past being an insufferable git who was sore about losing. He was sure that there weren't any words in any languages that could describe Draco Malfoy. And he did all this because he was proud about being pure-blooded. Well, Fred was willing to debate that one to the mat. He was absolutely certain that the blood that ran in his veins was as black as the venom in his words, and there was nothing "pure" about it.  
  
Incensed to near-madness by the insults on top of all of this, he decided that he would take out his revenge on him there and then. With a roar of outrage, Fred yanked himself away from Angelina, flinging all of his weight in the direction of the loathsome creature. He imagined hitting him as hard as he could, as many times as he could. He would certainly find out what color his blood was _then_. Then he changed his mind, and imagined himself wringing his scrawny little throat instead...

But he had hardly gotten a step forward when all three chasers fell on him, grabbing him and pulling him back with all of their might. Shouting in indignation, he tried to wrestle himself out of their hold, but it was no use. Female though they might be, they were not lacking in strength.  
  
"Gerroffame!" he howled, violently struggling against Angelina, Katie and Alicia, feeling a sort of panic as he saw his twin and Harry launch themselves at Draco in front of him. "Get OFF! _I'm going to effing_ kill _him!_!"

Sure enough, Hermione's eyes widened as she saw Fred lunge toward Draco but almost immediately he was restrained - and she relaxed.

Not for long though, as her eyes caught Harry and George pelting towards Draco and bowl him down onto the ground only to begin socking him in the stomach and face.  
"Harry! GEORGE! NO!" She heard someone shout, panicking inside and hurrying forward to the midst of the crowd near the raging Fred and constraining Chasers.

Harry was cursing as well as George, but all of a sudden they flew off of the little grease-wad and hit the icy ground, hard.

"What do you think you're DOING?" Madam Hooch screeched as Harry sprang to his feet and saw Malfoy on the ground with a bloody nose, whimpering over the noise of the crowd.

"I've never seen such behavior like it –– back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! /Now/!"  
Harry turned on his heel and began marching off towards the pitch, sure George was right behind him and wondering whether the three Chasers had failed in restraining Fred, and if he had launched another attack on Malfoy in rage.

As Madam Hooch finally broke up the brawl and Harry and George marched out of the Quidditch Pitch, Fred finally stopped fighting the Gryffindor chasers. Panting and red-in-the-face from his exertions, he settled on glaring daggers at Malfoy. Though he had ceased struggling for the present, neither Angelina, Katie or Alicia trusted him to remain docile for very long, and their grip was almost painful on his arms and shoulders. It irked him. Everything irked him at the moment. His team for holding him back. Hooch for taking Malfoy's side. Harry and George getting at Draco first. He was in a generally horrible mood, though oddly enough the desire to kill the Slytherin had died down somewhat to a very dull bloodlust. He spun on his heel, thrashing his arm sharply in able to break out of their grips.  
  
"Lay off!" he snarled venomously, eyes blazing. "Get off me, I say!"  
  
He managed to shake off the chasers without very much difficulty - they backed off without much of a fight after seeing that Fred wasn't near insane with the desire to break Draco's neck. He almost tripped over discarded broomsticks and his beater's bat as he stormed towards the fallen Malfoy. The Weasley twin knew that he had little chance of attacking the creature while Hooch was still present, but he had a thing or two to say to him just the same.

Draco – as usual in times of peril, was whimpering as he lay on the ground – Harry and George were already far up the grounds nearly to the castle, and Hermione was pale as she watched the scene unravel before her eyes.

That was – well, scary. There was no other way to put it. - Never before had she seen Fred that angry and even /she/ had narrowed her eyes at Malfoy in anger and surprise, but to see Fred have to be restrained by the combined efforts of all three Chasers!

It was frightening, and even more confusing at the way Draco was acting, for certain reasons only Hermione knew about.

She backed away a few unsure steps with her eyes now wide at Fred, who had gone up to Draco – and in a horrifying rush she panicked at the prospect of Fred beating up Draco and getting into trouble for it. – For who knew what he would do to him. All she knew was that Fred needed to stop, and control his anger. "No – Fred," She tried to say out-loud, but her throat was extremely dry and all that came out was a quiet mutter that no one could hear over the roar of the crowds.

Meanwhile, Harry and George had reached the outside of Professor McGonagall's office and were waiting, just as the Professor herself came storming down the hallway. She was wearing a scarf as a tribute to her house – but tore it from her throat with shaking hands as she strode toward them, looking livid.

"In!" she said furiously, pointing to the door.

For once in his life, Fred Weasley had decided to do something completely out of character. He was /not/ going to beat Draco into a heap of bloody pulp. He did this - or rather, did /not/ do this - for several reasons. Firstly, there too many teachers abroad, he would be stopped before he could bat an eyelash. Secondly, he knew that Hermione would be absolutely furious with him if he acted on such rash impulses, and he didn't feel like getting on her bad side at the moment. Thirdly, he decided, then and there, that he was going to have his revenge on Malfoy - but he was going to have it on his terms, NOT after being goaded on by the ponce. He came to a stop only once he came a few feet away from the whimpering boy. Positively quivering with the suppressed desire to cause this creature extreme pain, he dropped down onto a knee and eyed the Slytherin student as if he were having second thoughts about his decision. He dug his fingers into his knee to keep them still.  
  
"Don't suppose I'll have my go at you," he said slowly, deliberately. "Harry and George did a well enough job by themselves... but try saying half of those words again, Malfoy, and I'll rip your tongue out of your throat."   
  
He suddenly stood, taking a step back from Draco, scowling at him.  
  
"Stay away from me. Stay away from Hermione. Or I will kill you. Or at least make you wish you were never born."   
  
He made a half-smile sort of grimace thing, and then turned on his heel, trouncing away without waiting for an answer (and not really wanting to hear one, either).

Hermione breathed out slowly as she watched Fred retreat, but still wondered what he had said to Draco and also where he was going after he did so.

Not really knowing what to do with herself, and feeling strange that Fred hadn't even noticed her presence, Hermione decided against following Fred for some reason unknown to even her, and pushed her way slowly through the now absolutely insane crowd, which was too busy to hear anything at the moment –– Hermione's breathing, Fred's talking to Draco - or even the few words that Malfoy whimpered when Fred walked away as he lay on the ground, face screwed up in pain.

Hermione continued towards the castle – where currently George and Harry were, in Professor McGonagall's office.

"Provoked you?" Professor McGonagall had shouted, slamming a fist onto her desk so that her tartan biscuit tin slid sideways off it and burst open, littering the floor with Ginger Newts.

"He'd just lost, hadn't he, of course he wanted to provoke you! But what on earth he can have said that justified what you two did..."

Fred, as a matter of fact, had no idea where he was going. Just as long as he got away from Draco soon, it didn't matter. His mind was so muddled with thoughts of revenge and turning around to finish the little ferret off despite his prior convictions, it simply didn't occur to him that Hermione could have been there. Rather than look, he simply stalked away as quickly as he could without having to contend with the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He was almost as angry with the rest of the chasers as he was with Malfoy. Maybe it was better he'd be alone for a while and... cool off.  
  
"He insulted my parents!" George snarled. He didn't exactly care that it probably wasn't exactly wise to interrupt McGonagall whilst she was going on such a tirade. "And Harry's mother!"  
  
He wasn't in the slightest bit sorry for what he had done. Only, perhaps, that he hadn't been able to hit Draco harder (though he had hit him pretty hard already). Nobody spoke against his family like that and lived. Glowering, brown eyes glaring at McGonagall as if it were her fault any of this came to place, George waited for a response to his impudence.

"But instead of leaving it to Madam Hooch to sort out, you two decided to give an exhibition of Muggle dueling, did you?" bellowed Professor McGonagall. "Have you any idea what you've –"

"Hem hem."  
Harry wheeled around and his stomach filled with a mixture of lead and anger. Great - what did she want.?  
"May I help, Professor McGonagall?" asked the green-cloaked toad in a sweet poisonous voice.  
Professor McGonagall flushed angrily. "Help? What do you mean, 'help'?"

Meanwhile, Hermione had nearly gotten out of the crowd, when she stopped and went back, suddenly realizing that her bag was on the ground near the Gryffindor team and Draco, where she had dropped it.

She bent down to pick it up, and happened to hear a few words coming from Draco's wincing face. With a slight frown, Hermione stood up and stared at him.

The words were so quiet that she couldn't hear what they were, but Draco's face was in a more painful look than usual. He was clutching his side and his grey eyes opened, fell on Hermione, and narrowed.

Hermione took a step back, glaring straight at him and not moving any line of her face.

If he wanted to be that way, fine. He was a slimeball after all... wasn't he.

Yes, he was.

She took one step forward, feeling some of the anger that she had been bottling up inside come out a little outlet in her feelings.

Hermione took a slow breath, then spit on the ground near Draco, whose look deepened.

She was feeling all the hate for the curse he had put on her finally come through her and show on her face. "I hope you feel really well about this Draco. Because that letter is –" She shook her head slowly to finish the sentence, eyes locked on his, then turned around and walked off back through the crowd, clutching her bag and leaving Draco to stare after her with wide eyes.

It was a pity Fred hadn't stayed for a few moments, for he would have certainly been proud of Hermione's brave (and slightly vulgar) actions. After storming out of the Pitch, however, his temper cooled enough for him to realize that he left his broom and his beater's club lying on the ground. He slowed his step, scowling before him at the castle, where George and Harry were already out of sight - and pondered whether to go back and retrieve them. He certainly didn't want Hooch chastising him for maltreating Quidditch supplies, now, did he?  
  
Running a hand through his fiery red hair, Fred decided that he should probably go back. He had nothing better to do, anyway, and he guessed that it would be a while until George was let out of McGonagall's office. And hey - maybe, if he were lucky, he would even be able to witness Draco receiving some sort of punishment, or being shoved off to the Hospital Wing. Thrusting his fists into the pockets of his Quidditch robes, the Weasley spun on his heel and began retracing his steps.  
  
------  
  
Several swearwords ran through George's head, ones that he wouldn't dare utter at the moment, or he would be suspended for sure. Instead he narrowed his eyes at Umbridge, mouthing them wordlessly - no. No, this old bat - what did she - she couldn't - she - he would - He couldn't hold a single thought for more than a few words, though they all centered around the mutual consent of, "She should die!" His hands curled into fists. If she was going to say what he thought she would... she was done for. He thought that he was going to burst a blood vessel when he only had McGonagall to be lectured by - but this...

Professor Umbridge moved forward into the office, still smiling that sickly smile that made Harry want to rub it off with the oil from Snape's head.  
"Why, I thought you might be grateful for a little extra authority."  
"You thought wrong," McGonagall snapped, turning her back on Umbridge. "Now, you two had better listen closely. I do not care what provocation Malfoy offered you, I do not care if he insulted every family member you possess, your behavior was disgusting and I am giving each of you a week's work of detention! Do not look at me like that, Potter –" For Harry's jaw had just dropped, "– you deserve it! And if either of you ever ––"  
"Hem hem,"  
"Yes?" Professor McGonagall closed her eyes as though praying for patience.  
"I think they deserve rather more than detentions," said Umbridge, smiling still more broadly.  
Professor McGonagall's eyes flew open as did Harry's jaw again.  
That – absolute – cow. What kind of horrors did she have in store for him?  
"But unfortunately, it is what I think that counts, as they are in my House, Dolores."  
"Well, /actually/ Minerva," simpered Professor Umbridge, "I think you'll find that what I think /does/ count. Now, where is it? Cornelius just sent it.. . . I mean," she gave a false little laugh as she rummaged in her handbag and Harry's fist tightened around the small Snitch. "The /Minister/ just sent it. . . Ah yes. . . hem hem – Educational Decree Number Twenty-five. . ."  
"Not another one!" exclaimed Professor McGonagall violently.  
"Well yes," said Umbridge. "Anyways, the amendment, - 'The High Inquisitor will henceforth have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions, and removal of privileges as may have been ordered by other staff members. . ."  
But Harry didn't hear any of the rest. All he wanted to know was what Umbridge wanted to do, and what would happen to him and George. Would they be expelled?  
He tried hard not to think of going back to the Dursleys and spending the rest of his life as a banker.  
But what she said next drew him back to earth as quickly as he had gone, and with a stab of panic.  
"So. . . I really think I will have to ban these two from playing Quidditch ever again," she said, looking from Harry to George and back again.  
  
Hermione was already through the crowd and back up the hill, in plain view through a space in the pitch for anyone who wanted to see her, and Draco was doing just that. He was staring after her disdainfully, yet with a not-so-Draco aura.

As he came closer, Fred caught sight of Hermione as she began walking away from the Pitch. He stopped in surprise, being reminded of the second thing he had forgotten in the past few minutes. He felt slightly guilty for not looking for her sooner – but surely she realized that that little git had flustered him beyond reason? Smiling humorlessly, he quickened his step a bit to meet up with her.  
  
---  
  
George could not believe his ears. He froze, gazing at Umbridge like a fish out of water. Ban...ever...again. His mind turned over these words, frantically trying to find some other hidden meaning out of them. It could not possibly be... she didn't... they weren't going to... seriously! Once again his thoughts would only come in short spurts and incomplete sentences. He blinked, opened his mouth once or twice as if to speak, but couldn't physically say anything.  
  
He turned around sharply to raise his eyebrows at McGonagall, a slightly wild expression in his eyes. She had to say something. She had to do something. How could she let this happen to the Gryffindor Quidditch team!? Only one beater, and no seeker, and a keeper that couldn't save a goal even if the quaffle was aimed right at his head! This was unheard of. Simply unheard of! And only for a little brawling...!  
  
A lesson was to be learned here. One should /never/ assume that their day could get no worse.

Harry couldn't believe his ears either. He was in utter shock. He felt the Snitch fluttering in his hand and when he spoke, even his voice sounded distant. "Ban us? From playing . . . ever again?"  
"Yes Mr. Potter, I think a lifelong ban ought to do the trick," Umbridge's smile widened as she watched him struggle to figure out if he had heard correctly.

Harry's jaw dropped even so low that there was fear of it hitting the ground. He could not believe his ears. Surely he was dreaming, and this was all because he had fallen off of his broom during the game, and gotten a serious life-threatening concussion – or something of the matter, because he would rather be in that situation than this.

No Quidditch for the REST of his LIFE?  
"You /and/ Mr. Weasley here. And I think, to be safe, this young man's twin ought to be stopped too – if his teammates had not restrained him, I feel sure he would have attacked young Mr. Malfoy as well."  
Harry barely paid attention to the rest. All he heard was no Beaters, or Seeker – for the rest of their lives. The thing he enjoyed most was ripped away from him – forever.

Umbridge left the room leaving a horrified silence in her wake.

Hermione did not know Fred was behind her – her nerves were too high. Everything had happened so fast... she had basically told Malfoy the answer – Malfoy had looked at her strangely, as if – ...

- But no. She had finally done what she had wanted to do for five years – be rebellious in front of Malfoy.  
Well, not that she hadn't before, she had taken a chunk out of his face in her third year – but apart from that, she put up with rubbish. "Just ignore it Harry," or "Come /on/ Ron," were two of the most familiar phrases she had known.  
She didn't even have time to think about Fred – her mind was so presently preoccupied and busy.

George stared after the old bat with an expression that could have curdled milk. He felt as if a bucket of icewater had just been dumped over his head, and for a good four seconds he was as rigid as a board. As soon as the door was closed, he had the oddest sensation of having the world shatter about him in a million and one itsy... bitsy... pieces...  
  
"How could you let her do this?" roared the Weasley twin, flying around to turn on the Professor with a murderous look about him. His face was almost as red as his hair, and his eyes just as fiery. It gave him a slightly demonic appearance that one might laugh at... as long as one wasn't the object of such anger. "She -can't- do this! Are you going to -let- her ruin the Gryffindor Quidditch team!?"  
  
He sincerely doubted that McGonagall could do anything about this. That loathesome decree alone was enough proof that it was out of her hands. George refused to believe it. No! McGonagall HAD to have president over that fat wad of blubber and - and - gelatin! This... this wasn't good. No, something had to be done about this. George had never felt himself so angry in his entire life. He was even angrier than he had been before he pounded Malfoy. Who knows what he would do after this!? Fred AND he definitely would not take this one easily. Not. at. all.. The old toad would either have to die, or be run out of the school amidst gales of laughter (or gasps of awe -- he couldn't tell which would please him more at the moment... maybe a mixture of both...). The second sounded more appealing, for he had the vaguest notion that no revenge was worth Azkaban.  
  
------  
  
"Oy! Hermione! Wait up!" he called, quickening his pace and running a little until he finally reached Hermione, who seemingly had been oblivious to his presence. He did not really think much of it. He was too destracted to think that it was possible that she had done something so bold as to 'talk sass' to Malfoy during his brief bout of confused walking back and forth along the pitch. He slowed, falling into step beside her. He gave her a weary sort of smile. Screw the brooms, he thought. Someone else would pick it up for him. He didn't want to go back there again, not when he had something better to do: walk with Hermione back to the castle.  
  
"Hey," he said lightly, looking furtively at her. He didn't know what else to say. He decided that 'hey' was good for now.

Hermione's eyes darted to Fred and back to front again when he said that catchy opening line. She didn't answer right away - and then the not answering right away, turned into not answering at all. She merely continued to walk, in a brisk manner, trying hard not to think of what she had just done in front of Malfoy. Oh it was going to be hell to pay, that was certain. She burned the bridge before she'd even gotten near enough to cross it.  
- But... /did/ she want to cross it at all? That question had repeated itself inside her head ever since she had received the letter.  
Then her thoughts crossed over what Harry, George, and, (in Fred's case, almost,) had done. What were the /punishments/ going to be? Would Harry and George be expelled? With the new cow of an Inquisitor trying to get as much power as she could, it would be quite serious - and Hermione wasn't pleased in the slightest with anything at the moment.  
Her frosty eyes matched her frosty face, which was somewhat panicky. She didn't really know why she was acting so odd, or why she wasn't responding, but for the first time ever in their relationship - she truly didn't want to be around Fred at the moment. Why this struck her so powerfully at the moment she had no idea, and was even more upset about /it/.  
"Hi..." She managed to say quietly, determinedly not looking at him but keeping her gaze as least-angry as possible. For it was true, she wasn't upset with Fred... more with everything else.  
  
Harry didn't even know what to say. He opened his mouth a few times, then, not capable of speech, closed it again. The anger coursing through him was so strong, that had something delicate been sitting in front of him it would have been broken.  
Without a word, he pushed the chair over angrily, and strode from the room with his hands in his pockets. He didn't even want to hear what McGonagall had to say – Umbridge was a foul, twisted, evil, mad old bat – and she was going to make life at Hogwarts miserable for him.  
Professor McGonagall did not answer Fred, but stared after Umbridge with a face as white as chalk, then sat down in her chair and began to write on parchment – lips thinner than ever.

"Ah."  
  
With a slight twinge of annoyance, Fred realized in roughly ten seconds of being in her presence that Hermione would not be good company at the moment. She obviously was not in a very good mood. Not that he had expected her to be bright and happy and chipper after what went on after the game, of course, but still... He hadn't been looking forward to her being short with him of all people. Maybe she was upset with him for trying to get at Malfoy, though he thought this bloody unfair, as he hadn't even touched the shrimp. If he tried to talk to her now, or even try to stand the silence for very long, one would probably end up snapping at the other. He wasn't quite sure how he would react to that. He would either rise into a towering rage, or break down into hysterics. No, better he let himself simmer down and brood a little before he tried to figure out what was wrong with Hermione.  
  
He scowled slightly, wrinkling his freckled nose as he turned to look at the doors. He did not like the thought of going back to the Quidditch Pitch again. He had already walked back and forth enough times to make him dizzy. Nah, he'd just go ahead and hide somewhere until he found George and demanded the details of his punishment, and what they could do to get him out of it. So he said, without trying to sound bitter:  
  
"Y'know, I'll see you later, Hermione."  
  
Without waiting for a reply, he put on a burst of speed and ran all the way back to the castle, thinking that if he had to stay another moment in the sunshine and the snow with someone who didn't want to talk to him he would go bloody effing mad.  
  
------  
  
Any answer - absolutely any answer she could have picked randomly out of a hat, even the placating 'I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do about it' - couldn't have been any worse than McGonagall's silence. George still could hardly believe that she had nothing to say to him. He stood there, stock still as he watched her scribble on her parchment. For a moment he wasn't angry at all, simply astonished that she wouldn't even give him the courtesy of acknowledging his existance. He didn't even notice Harry's departure. ...In fact, he had hardly even noticed Harry during the whole affair, though it was rather selfish of him.  
  
For a moment he had the wild impulse to lunge forward, to yell, to scream, to shake the desk, shake _her_, do anything to make her look at him or say something. He took a step towards the desk, even, but then controlled himself. With a feral snarl, he turned on his heel and charged after Harry. He slammed the door behind him as if he wanted to knock it off his hinges. He did want that, actually, though even the door was being uncooperative today...

Almost immediately Hermione knew that she had made a mistake. She knew by the way Fred said that he would see her later, that he was hurt, and that made her feel even more upset.  
A feeling of guilt washed over her stomach like a wave of radiation, and she found herself walking faster up to the castle after Fred.  
"No – wait!" She called out, but too quietly for even a cricket to hear, let alone Fred who was going very fast and nearly to the castle by then.  
She /wasn't/ cross with Fred, and didn't like that it came off that way – she wasn't even surprised that he had tried to do Malfoy in... - or was she?  
_Come off it..._ she thought to herself, and hurried into the castle. She had to find Fred.  
And Harry, and George, of course, to find out what had happened to them.  
Oh this was awful – like a nightmare. Everything was turned upside-down. Fred was angry with her now because she had been short with him, she was having thoughts about Draco that she never wanted to even think in the first place, and she felt guilty for making Fred think she didn't want to be around him. The nasty little impulse she had felt disappeared as soon as she had felt it –but Fred had been gone before she could call him back.


	14. Aftermath

"Banned."  
  
Gah. As if he needed Angelina to remind him. As if he didn't have that very same word echoing through his brain. As if it wasn't already driving him crazy. He shot the captain a thoroughly unappreciative look that was little less than a scowl. At the moment everything annoyed him. The crackle of the fire. Even the sound of everyone's breathing was grating on his nerves. George was in no better a mood. They sat apart, next to each other, glaring at their shoes and generally mulling on their misery. At least he was in a better mood than he was before. When George had told him, he had wanted to beat a first year to a bloody pulp just because he had bumped into him in the hall. Banned. He could hardly believe it. And he hadn't even done anything! He hadn't even touched the whimp! The injustice of it all was just too much.  
  
"_Banned_," was she still talking!? He narrowed his eyes at her, and watched as the crestfallen captain continued. "No Seeker and no Beaters... What on earth are we going to do?"  
  
He made a slightly disgusted sound, and shook his head, though it wasn't really in answer. He looked around once, his eyes skimming over his fellow Quidditch Players, before his gaze dipped back down to the floor, or the fire. He crossed his arms, and leaned back in his chair with a longsuffering sigh. This had to be one of the worst days of his life. He would never be able to play Quidditch again. That... that was low. Well, of course, he wouldn't _actually_ never play Quidditch again. He was sure that he would be able to sneak a game or two back home, once he left Hogwarts... but that really just wasn't the point. It was unfair. He wanted to go to bed. And brood. Maybe he could dream about hexing Umbridge so badly she barely resembled her own globular self.

Harry was sitting miserably on the couch sandwiched in between Ginny and Hermione, wondering numbly where Ron was and what on earth he was going to do.  
No more Quidditch. It seemed like Umbridge was already beginning to take away the things he loved most at Hogwarts – first Quidditch, what next?  
She was a twisted foul gargoyle – and just loved to torment him. Why and how could someone take pleasure in that? The injustice of it all made him want to yell at some unsuspecting person for hours on end.  
"It's just so unfair," He heard Alicia say from somewhere to his left. "I mean, what about Crabbe and that Bludger he hit after the whistle had been blown? Has she banned him?"  
"No," Ginny said, and because she was so close to Harry it drew him back to earth with an unpleasant bump. "He just got lines, I heard Montague laughing about it at dinner."  
"And banning Fred when he didn't even do anything!" said Alicia furiously, pummeling her knee with her fist.  
Hermione sighed and set her head on her hand, which was propped up by her elbow.  
She had come back to the common room alone to find them here, and decided to sit by Harry for her and Fred hadn't talked since then. She was already depressed that he was angry with her and didn't know if he would forgive her.

Fred lifted his eyes again; just long enough to give Angelina another scalding look. Oh, wouldn't she just drop it? He swore that she was trying to get him all riled up again. His blood had just ceased to boil, and his temper had just cooled enough for him to sit here without being truly hostile. He was getting tired, now. His anger was all simmering down and leaving him broody and moody.  
  
"It's not my fault I didn't," he said, his tone laced with bitterness. "I would've pounded the little scumbag into a pulp if you three hadn't been holding me back."  
  
He briefly included Alicia and Katie in his glare. He probably wouldn't forgive them for this for a long time. Even though they were on his side – and if they knew that he was going to get punished for hurting Malfoy even if he didn't lay a finger on him, they probably would have not only let him go, but would have cheered George, Harry and he on with a gusto – he just simply couldn't let go the fact that if it weren't for them, he probably would have at least gotten a little bit of satisfaction from the whole ordeal. He bit his lip, turning his eyes away from the chasers to look at the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Where was Ron? The thought struck him suddenly. He wasn't even sure where it had come from. Now that he noticed it, his absence was conspicuous. He of all people had the right to be glad of the day's outcome. Not only had his nemesis been beaten (almost) senseless, but also his (unsupportive) brothers had been thrown off the team. He should have been elated.  
  
He looked last at Hermione. No, he wasn't angry with her. Slightly perplexed, maybe. He wished he could corner her off and talk to her, but he wasn't sure what he would say. He didn't know what she thought of the whole thing, after all. What if she was displeased with his behavior? What if she would say it was his own fault, for letting Malfoy egg him on? Part of him was telling him this was absolutely preposterous, but he didn't know what to think right now. He needed a good night's sleep to figure this whole thing out. A flash of gold caught his eye. He tore his gaze away from Hermione, and for a while watched the snitch as it zoomed its way around the common room.

Hermione had snuck a glance at Fred –for she could've sworn she had felt him looking at her a few seconds before, but he was watching the Snitch when she looked; she sighed and looked back at her cat, who was pawing at the gold object flying around the room as if he was going to catch it.  
Her eyes met with the Captain of the team's worriedly, before back onto Crookshanks.  
"I'm going to bed," said Angelina, getting slowly to her feet. "Maybe this will all turn out to have been a bad dream. . . . Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and find we haven't played yet. . . ."  
This made Hermione feel even worse. Even though she wasn't on the team – she felt its pain. Perhaps not as strong as Harry or Fred, or anyone in that matter – but it was still there.  
She stood up slowly and walked over to the fire, staring at it blankly. The flames reflected in her gaze.  
  
Harry stared miserably at the dark window. It was snowing – but he felt like it should have been raining. It was not a possibility anymore – it was for certain. The worst day of his life at Hogwarts had come.  
  
As she stood by the warmth of the fire, which was not feeling very warm at all - Hermione suddenly felt a rush of wanting – she wanted to talk to Fred, to comfort him, to be comforted by him, and to confide in him. He – other than Harry – was the only one she could do that to.  
She missed talking to him and it had only been a few hours.  
Hermione turned her gaze to him and her eyes lingered around his face for a moment or two.

Fred had been watching her as she stood and walked towards the fire. He was fighting some sort of inner battle as he watched her. He felt just as strong the desire to talk to her – to go up to her and tell her he was sorry for whatever he did to make her mad – but he wasn't quite sure whether that would be a good idea or not. He didn't want to fight anymore that night. Maybe if he waited until tomorrow... if he had a bit of time to sleep on it... he wouldn't be so short-tempered? As soon as their eyes met, however, he realized that there really was no battle at all. He didn't really have a choice. He blinked slowly, observing the firelight flickering in her eyes with a sad sort of smile. He tore his gaze away for long enough to toss a glance to his brother. George was busy glowering at the fire. They'd talk later. They didn't really need words, his brother and he – they would share a few dark looks now and again, and then the next thing he knew they would be plotting the demise of madam Umbridge with the fervor of escaped convincts.  
  
He frowned lightly as he made up his mind to carry on with his decision. He stood slowly, and then after a moment's hesitation stepped up to Hermione – as stealthily as a cat, though lumbering as he was now Crookshanks was not much of an example. Somehow, the atmosphere seemed to forbid any noise louder than a whisper, unless the silence would come shattering down around them like a thousand shards of glass. Once he reached Hermione, he paused, looking at her with a wary expression on his face. No, she wouldn't snap at him. She never snapped at him, and she never would if he had anything to do about it. He stepped up closer, hooking his fingers lightly in her sleeve. He leaned in close so they would not be overheard (or at least he wouldn't disturb either George or Harry's interminable broodiness), and said,  
  
"Think we can talk now, Hermione?"

Hermione looked towards Fred and immediately felt a feeling of relief spread through her entire body. He wanted to talk to her! He wasn't thoroughly angry with her!  
"Alright... sure," She replied quietly, throwing an uneasy glance toward Harry, nodding, and moving slightly towards the portrait hole.  
She wasn't exactly sure what Harry would think of her leaving him there to wallow in his misery, but he didn't look too sociable anyways. Then she saw Ginny and wondered what /she/ would think of her and Fred walking off together. Hermione didn't know whether Ginny knew or not, and wasn't in the mood to tell her at all, so she reassured herself that they were fine, and exited the portrait.  
  
She waited outside slightly nervously. Her stomach was feeling uncomfortable – and she didn't know why. Her head was dizzy, and she wondered why.  
Come to think of it, her whole body was feeling awkward and sick, and she had no clue as to /why/.

Fred was far past the point of wondering what the others would think about he leaving the common room with Hermione. Even if his thoughts weren't preoccupied with wondering what the hell he was going to say once he was alone with her, chances were he wouldn't have given it a second thought anyway. If they couldn't come to the conclusion themselves, then it wasn't worth his time explaining it to them. He followed Hermione through the portrait hole, and was just beginning to feel a bit of nervousness himself. More than anything, however, he was feeling impatient. He wanted this whole day and everything that came with it behind him and forgotten. If he couldn't take back what he did or didn't do in the Quidditch Pitch, even if he had wanted to, he knew that he could make things right with Hermione. ...Or he would die trying.  
  
He stepped out into the hall, and took a few seconds to look about and see if any students were present. Actually, he couldn't have cared less whether there were or not. He scratched his red hair thoughtfully, and then finally turned to look at her. He decided it was best to go right to the point. So he said, talking rather slowly, as if he was putting great thought into each word,  
  
"Are you angry with me, Hermione?"  
  
As he spoke, he began to take a few small steps down the hall, a hint that maybe they should walk on. He slipped his hands into his pockets, eyes still fixed on Hermione, still with that slightly uneasy expression on his face. Not that he suspected anybody would be listening in the common room behind the portrait, but he didn't want news of their discussion circulating through the school from the mouth of the Fat Lady herself. She did have a poor reputation of being an amazing gossip, after all.

Hermione began to walk with him, thinking about his question carefully.  
Now that he had actually /asked/, it seemed like she didn't know. – At the fire she was confident that she wasn't angry with him, but now... she was having second thoughts.

In some ways, yes. – She was angry with him. For almost attacking Malfoy was the main reason. But then again, he was Fred Weasley, and she liked him for who he was... the feisty, hot-tempered red-head. He had his good qualities, but that was him, and she had to accept that. Besides, he hadn't /actually/ hurt Malfoy. He had restrained himself afterwards.

The other reason was being short with her and leaving her on the ground to go back up to the castle alone – but she squashed this anger by pointing out to herself that /she/ was the one who had been short with him in the first place.

Leave it to Hermione to conquer her inward battles by her own logic.

"No Fred," She said quickly, looking softly at him as they walked. "I'm not angry with you. I thought I was – but not now. I'm glad that we're speaking, because ..." She knew it would sound stupid, but didn't know how else to put it. "Because I missed you. In that brief time when we weren't speaking... - I really did."

This came as a pleasant surprise to the Weasley. He would have thought for sure that she would admit that she was angry, and then that he would have to do a great deal of apologizing and explaining before she forgave him. That was really why he had put it off so long. He nodded slowly, and turned to look in front of him for a while, thinking on what she said. Of course he agreed, and felt the same. She had caught him off-guard though, so he had to think of his answer. He wondered if he had gotten a bludger to the head during the game, and didn't even notice it. That would explain why he was acting a bit slow that night. When he looked back at her again, the look in his brown eyes was softer, and he was smiling.  
  
"I missed you, too," he replied.  
  
He laughed a little. He was feeling better already. He realized that it might have been his (brief) estrangement with Hermione just as much as anything that had been making him so miserable all that evening. He could not believe that it could be so easy to fix this, though. Because... well, Hermione _had_ been angry with him, and he had been acting like a dolt when he was trying to get at Draco, and afterwards. Not that he thought he would have tried to change what he did if he was given the chance (other than kick all three chasers in the shins to make them let go)... but he still knew that it upset Hermione, and the fact that she was upset made him upset. He still thought that it was his duty to apologize, whether she wasn't really angry with him or not.  
  
"Well, I'm still sorry," he said, with a slightly stubborn tone. "I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I was a real idiot today..."

"You were just being you," Hermione replied quickly. "And you didn't do anything wrong. I mean, if Angelina, Katie and Alicia hadn't stopped you – you would have attacked Draco, - I mean Malfoy, but... that's alright." Her eyes were slightly wider than usual and she was frowning at herself. She felt a half-happy, half-gaping-hole feeling inside her. Hermione was glad that she and Fred were talking again, but something still wasn't right.  
Maybe it was that good-luck kiss she owed him. After all, the kisses were nice and always made her feel tingly inside. Yeah, that was it... she tried to reassure herself.

Hermione sighed and looked at him softly.

"I' really missed you, Fred," She repeated, feeling like even if she said it a thousand times it wouldn't get though to him how much she really did.

"I really missed you too, Hermione," he said, a hint of laughter in his voice.  
  
Not that he thought any of this was funny - he just found it rather unbelievable. Without really thinking about it, he slipped an arm around her shoulder. He looked at her still, as if he couldn't get enough of looking at her - as if he thought she had changed somehow in the few hours of their not speaking to each other. He decided that he never wanted to have a real fight with her. Their little tiff... it had been nothing. He knew that. And yet, it left such an impression on him! He could only imagine what would happen if it came right down to both of them screaming at each other at the top of their lungs, the castle walls rocking around them like they did in the Weasley Household whenever any of the family members fought. It would make this day's misery look like some sort of respite.  
  
This was yet another alien feeling that was unique to his relationship with Hermione. He never got so upset when any one of his brothers or sisters - or even his parents - weren't on speaking terms with him. The thing was, he just cared too much about Hermione for him to sit well with her being angry with him. He didn't know how he was going to arrange for something like this never to happen again, or whether it was possible, but he was going to have to try.

How in Bill's name would they ever survive when their first fight came...?

That day would to be a catastrophe – an utter disaster. Hermione didn't even know if she would be able to handle it.

She couldn't even handle not being on speaking terms with Fred for a few /hours/, let alone a serious fight, which was sure to be over a few days. If they ever did, Hermione would go mad and lose her mind from the stress.  
She enjoyed every second she spent with Fred – he was so free, and so away from all the busy atmosphere of studying. Not that she didn't like it, she still loved everything she did before she was with Fred, books, studying, - but now was different.  
Not only did Hermione love her studious ways – she had Fred to add to the list.

Wait. What was she saying... did she love Fred? Was it that serious?  
That was too deep of thinking for right now. Maybe later.

"Let's go outside," She said abruptly, but in a quiet tone. "I'm tired of this stuffy old castle."

"Sure."  
  
Quick answer – short and simple. He didn't have to put any real thought into it. He didn't care that it was after dark, and probably bitterly cold outside. He would go anywhere, so long as Hermione was with him, and they weren't fighting anymore. He wondered at how quickly his happiness became dependant on her. Already his mood was beginning to brighten. He realized that he forgot he was supposed to be moody and broody about being kicked off the Quidditch team for a full thirty seconds. He chuckled. Actually, everything was beginning to take on an amusing light now. The way Draco looked after Harry and George had (respectively) kicked his arse, all the angst that followed, even Hermione and his ridiculous fight... it was all beginning to seem particularly funny. Amazing how abruptly his mood could swing like that. He wondered if it was Hermione's doing, or if the day's drama had left him mentally unhinged.  
  
"We're doomed, you know," he said, grinning. "Or, I am, at least."

"- In what way?" Hermione asked, slowly putting her right hand up on Fred's as they walked, nearly to the front doors now.  
Doomed? Well yes, for what /she/ was thinking – but could Fred possibly be thinking the same thing?  
She opened the front door for them and was not at all happy by the rush of frost-bitten cold that greeted them, but was exceptionally excited when she saw how beautiful it was. The snow looked like diamonds all around from the moonlight, crunchy, and frosty looking as it sat happily on the ground. – A lone set of foot-prints showed someone had not yet returned from their walk outside, but Hermione was too distracted by the beautiful sight.  
The sky was crystal clear, and black, and Hermione was strongly reminded of the last time she and Fred had been outside in the snow at night. It was a frightful, horrifying memory, but fun and adventurous at the same time.  
"This looks familiar..." She said quietly with a small smile.

"Yes, a bit," he said, also smiling. "Only I think the lake might actually be frozen this time."  
  
He kept his voice in a hushed tone. It was so peaceful outside. So still. So... silent. He had the oddest impression that the snow would suddenly crumble, or melt or disappear or something if he spoke too loudly. Ah, what an emotional rollercoaster that night had been! He'd been happy one minute, worried, terrified, relieved, terrified again, confused, exhausted... wow. It made him sort-of sleepy just to be reminded of it. Regardless, it was a good memory. It had been a good day. To think, if any of that hadn't happened, chances were Hermione and he wouldn't be here at all. They would only be - er - acquaintances, constantly nit-picking at each other over his testers and her prefect duties. Rather scary thought, that. He turned to look at her again, as he found her infinitely more pretty than the snow. Suddenly, something occurred to him.  
  
"You know..." he began, eyes sparkling. "Gryffindor _did_ win today..."

Hermione began walking, so entranced by the beauty outside - that at first she didn't realize what Fred was talking about.  
"Hmm?" She asked distractedly, turning around to walk backwards, staring around at everything but him. The sky, the snow, and especially the castle, which was looking dark and magnificently noble that night.  
"What do you mean?"

Then her memory was jogged, and her face broke into a disapproving smile. "Oh no you don't –" She began slowly, taking a few steps backwards.  
Teasing was so much fun. Especially when it's your first time with the first boy you've ever liked.

"Oh yes I do!"  
  
Laughing, Fred began to advance on Hermione, just as slowly as she was backing away. He had to admit - there was a certain charm about teasing. Well, as long as he got what he wanted at the end, at least. Funny how one can completely forget that they are ankle-deep in snow and completely freezing when they have other, more pleasant things to distract them.  
  
"You promised!" he accused, taking on an injured look that was just as sincere as Hermione's disapproval. "You're not going to go back on your word now, are you?"  
  
He wondered how he was even able to remember Hermione's said promise. Everything that happened before or after the Quidditch Match was completely overshadowed by the events after the game. He was rather pleased. Ha. And to think that he would have let her get away with it, too, if he hadn't remembered...!

"Maybe not," said Hermione darkly, smiling in spite of herself. She backed up and around a tree, hung on its side, and stared at Fred with her eyes positively sparkling. "But I'll need to make sure you don't over-stay our bargain, mister mischief-maker..."  
With her face in an uncontrollable smile, her eyes twinkling, and her coy aura, it was hard to imagine that Hermione had a few things in her mind, even though they had been pushed to the back and temporarily forgotten since the evening was so thrilling.  
Even as he, his twin, and Harry were banned from the team, Fred was happy, and she was happy. – He was even more incredible than she thought.  
"Do you understand what I am saying?" She teased.

"'_Over-stay_'...?" Fred laughed. "What on earth made you think I'd do something like that?"  
  
There was a slightly sarcastic ring to his voice. She had managed to catch him off-guard with that statement, make him laugh, again. He decided not to respond to her last question. If she could play coy, he could play oblivious. He also realized that he had had enough of the playful teasing, fun though it might be. He sobered a little, and then stepped up to her. He took the last few steps remaining between Hermione and himself. Having sobered a bit, his grin softened into a smile. He slipped an arm around her waist, leaning in to put a small, playful kiss on the tip of her nose. He winked at her.  
  
"I'll stay as long as you want me to."  
  
Such nonsense! He wasn't even sure if those words meant anything. He was simply talking for the sake of saying something. Oh well. He was not in the mood to think about it. In fact, he didn't want to think about anything. He moved in to press a lingering kiss against her lips, a more appropriate place than his first try. He seemed to have forgotten it was Hermione who promised the kiss.  
  
Oh well.

With a shocked laugh, Hermione's eyes widened and her face went slightly pink in disbelief. - What was this?!  
Her hand flew to his mouth, pressing down on it and separating their lips.  
"I thought," She began quietly, looking behind him but speaking into his ear. " - that it was _me_ who was supposed to give _you_ the kiss... not the other way around..."  
Even though she was speaking disapprovingly, Hermione was quite astounded at Fred's dare to do such things. After all, he had been a joker all his life, and having a romantic side was so unlike him!  
It was surprisingly easy to toy with him though, and that was what led Hermione to believe she was going mad. She had never in her entire life had practice with her feelings this way.

Hmm. No. Fred had not been born a natural romantic, huh? Well, Hermione certainly was not making it easy for him now! He had said it before, he would probably say it again - she was a tease. Really! Since when had she been the joker and he - well, not? Talk about a reversal of roles. He would have to remedy that later. He did have a reputation to keep up, anyway. Couldn't allow himself to become a sentimental sap now, could he? The orange-haired boy blinked at her, lips curling into a smile behind her fingers. What was this - the second, third time she did that? He wondered what her reaction would be if he nipped her the next time she tried it. This time, though, he nodded. He gently tugged her wrist away, so he could return the whisper.  
  
"You're right!" he exclaimed. "Why, it's completely slipped my mind. Sorry! Oh well - carry on, then."  
  
He immediately broke out into a smug grin. He took a step back, crossing his arms as he raised an eyebrow at her. He was waiting.

Alright. If he could play those games - then so could she.  
Hermione wasn't bad at teasing, she had just never practiced it before in her life, was all.  
But what about kissing? - Was she a bad kisser? She'd never really thought about it before.  
Well obviously not if Fred still wanted a kiss. Okay then.  
Hermione tried her best not to laugh as Fred pulled back and watched her.  
She copied him and crossed her arms as well, repeating, " ... carry on." quietly.  
"You're unbelievable!" She laughed, eyes sparkling from the cold. It was just as romantically exciting as their adventure on the lake, only not the same situation.  
She bit her lip mock-irritably as their stand-off increased, then gave up with a sigh and moved closer to him. "Fine then..."  
Very softly, she pulled his arms apart so she could get even closer, brought her lips up to his and brushed them across in one movement.  
"Enough yet?" The brown-eyed girl asked, keeping her face and lips just as close.

For a moment or two, Fred thought that Hermione was going to stand there, smirking and trying to look disapproving at him forever. Ah – he loved that look. He truly did. Though at the same time it was the most annoying thing in the world. So strange he felt! He was just as excited as he was whenever he was about to go into a Quidditch game, even. He thought he would have gone crazy if Hermione changed her mind and tried to tease him any longer. But she didn't! ...But she might as well have been, pulling back before he could barely react.  
  
Haha.  
Funny.  
Hermione was very funny, wasn't she?  
  
Fred certainly thought so.  
  
"Mm... no," he replied, with the flicker of a smile.  
  
Simple answer. Nice and blunt, and quite true, too. He simply wanted nothing to do with tiny little pecks like that. Sure, it was nice and all and he certainly would not complain, but... well, as has already been confirmed, he was a male. He wanted a real kiss! Why, after he had such a horrible day, and having to wait so long for his good-luck kiss, he thought it was only what he deserved. Oh, the logic of a Weasley.  
Anyway, after giving his little answer, he grasped Hermione lightly by the forearms and pulled her a little closer for what he believed was a more appropriate kiss.

Well.

Funny.  
Fred was very funny, wasn't he?

Hermione was about to think so, before she realized that Fred was pulling her closer, and she was absolutely mortified about it. What had she been /thinking/... teasing in that manner!  
For a moment or two her heart raced at the thought of a boy pulling her closer to him by her arms. But then – then, her eyes met with his, and hers saw how much his really did want a kiss.  
But. But – Hermione thought. Maybe he didn't want just another kiss. Maybe he wanted a deeper kiss, or something else than just one more kiss.

The prospect rather frightened Hermione.

Her mind was torn eight different ways. She was trying to mix logic with feelings - and the turnout wasn't nice. Those two just didn't go well together.

Hermione was just about to say something, when suddenly she felt something airy hit her square in the back and she thought no more. Her mind was wiped blank, and she was suddenly controlled by movements that were not hers at all.

First, her hand moved up to Fred's chest and her fingers tightened around his tie. Then the hand moved back down to his arm and played with the cuff of his robe sleeve slightly.

Her eyes had this glossy look to them, (which probably wasn't too distinguishable from the way the sparkled from the cold,) and looked unusually mischievous... in a way that was quite unlike Hermione. But then, she continued to surprise Fred often, so why couldn't this be real? Even if she would never think to do such things.

"A real kiss," She whispered, a dangerous grin curving her lips. "Alright,"  
Quite sensually, Hermione moved her face so close to Fred's that their noses were touching, and ran her tongue along his lips in a slow movement.

Hermione's actions had the most peculiar effect on Fred. It was almost as if they flicked a switch inside of him that made his mind go completely blank, and made his heart suddenly start beating so fast it was as if he were running a race. Maybe this was why he didn't take the time to examine the situation. For, surely, if he had been in his right mind, something about this would have put him off guard. Yes, Hermione had been acting strangely and surprising him of late, but she had never done anything so... utterly out of character as this. And, no – he had not seen that spark of panic in her eyes one instant before that change came over her. Nah. At the moment there was absolutely nothing strange about this at all. Hermione was just in a particularly good mood, was all...  
  
In half an instant he had reacted, responded to her teasing (in his opinion, a much better kind of teasing). He leaned in, and in an instant was kissing her, quite differently than he had before. He was not rough, of course, or forcing in any way – but there was an entirely new motive behind this kiss than any of their others. He wanted more of the touch, the feel, the taste of her lips. He wanted her closer. He wanted... more. He mimicked Hermione, running his tongue languidly over her lips... and then he hesitated, as if making sure one last time that she was okay with this before he lost his head (as if he hadn't already).  
  
Such a gentleman!

Alright. So had Hermione actually known what they were doing, she would've done one of two things.  
She would've either stepped back, realized this was a stupid brash thing to do, and tell both him /and/ herself off for snogging each other's lips off - (this would've been something the old Hermione would do. Before she met Fred and he completely turned her emotions upside-down.) - or she would have gone on with the frightening movements nervously.  
But since this was not actually Hermione we're talking about, she continued to act as though it were someone inside of her, telling her to be far more sensual than she normally was.  
With a casual look at Fred when he paused to see if she was alright, she drew him closer - her back bumping up against the tree – and ran a single finger across his lips, closely followed by her own lips.  
A smile crossed her features once more as her twinkly brown eyes scanned his face after the kiss.  
Strange... the grin had never even left in the first place.  
With a sudden urge she smoothed a small part his robes away from his neck and pressed her lips to his warm skin, which actually _did_ feel warm to her – as it was not the Imperius curse was under... therefore she felt.  
Just didn't think.  
/That/ was obvious...

It is never a good idea to have two people not thinking in a single situation. As was priorly observed, Fred was beyond thought. But that was not so unusual. The Weasley twin really was renown for jumping into situations without giving them a single thought, so this instance was not quite remarkable.  
  
Actually, when Hermione kissed his neck, he was thinking of something - only one thing, however. It tickled! Fred found it very difficult to keep from grinning like an idiot or snickering, but it tickled! Not unpleasantly so, of course. In fact, it felt good, but... He curled his index finger under Hermione's chin, and tilted her face up to his. Smirking, he leaned in close to kiss her again, lips falling on the corner of her mouth. He slipped an arm around her waist, pulled her close to him, placed small kisses over the side of her face, tracing his way to her her neck.  
  
He pressed his hand tightly against the small of her back, rumpling the fabric of her robes beneath his fingers as he ran them upwards, tracing the curve of her spine until the rough scrape of bark stopped him at her shoulders. He found it fascinating, the slope of her back, the curve of her neck, the dip of her collarbone where it met her shoulder. Curves... girls - and subsequently Hermione - was all curves, their bodies a perfect symetry of curves, slopes, and arches. Funny how he had never noticed this before!  
  
In a moment he had mimicked Hermione's actions of a few moments ago, pressing down part of her robe so her pale neck was bared to him and his kisses. The hand that was not pressed to her back lifted to her head, curled in her hair. He wondered, briefly, if Hermione had ever done this before... whatever "this" was... with Krum, or... well, with Ron, for all he knew. She certainly seemed sure of herself.

However would she react if she saw herself doing this...?  
If someone were to somehow record and capture this session in the snow, and if she were to watch it later under her right mind – she would probably be horrified with her brash actions, and scared to absolute death that she had done something of /that/ extent with a boy.  
Well, this was Fred. And Fred wasn't just any /boy/... she really needed to stop thinking of him as that. He was different. And she cared about him.  
... But still! She was acting positively un-Hermione like as possible. And if she could only see herself now...  
  
The not-so-in-her-right-mind-Hermione allowed Fred to do everything he wanted, and when he put his hand in her hair, drew in a sharp breath and pressed a kiss into his mouth.  
She suddenly wanted more of his skin, craved more of the warmth...  
- Something Hermione would not think at all, and even if she did, she wouldn't actually put it into action. Her nerves would scare her down too much.  
She slid her hand up Fred's un-tucked shirt, feeling his hot skin and bringing the hand to his neck, scratching his skin lightly.  
Her mind was disorted with mingled jolts of desire – uncanny, and scary.  
This was most assuredly not Hermione in her right state.

For just a half a moment, a first smidgeon of doubt flickered through Fred's mind.  
  
Should they be doing this?  
  
Almost the instant the thought surface, he had brushed it away with utmost impatience. Of course they should, he assured himself! How long had he and Hermione been an item? Long enough, considering today's standards. There were couples their age that had been together half so long, who had already gone much farther than this! Thus justified, his mind was wiped blissfully clear of all coherent thought, and he continued on virtually guiltless with his and Hermione's snogging session.  
  
Without thinking, he returned Hermione's kiss with perhaps just a bit more vigour than he had received, taking control of it, slipping his tongue past her lips and teeth. It was amazing, the effect this girl was having on him! That single, trailing touch made his heart race even more quickly than it had done before, and caused all the blood to be rushed from his head. He was dizzy, and excited. All of this was new to him - and quite interesting to boot.  
  
His hand moved restlessly over her back, her shoulders, passing over the small of her back and coming to rest on the curve of her hip. Right-minded Hermione probably would have hit him for something like that. He was beginning to get frustrated by the clothing he was encountering. There seemed to be layers and layers of the unwanted fabric between his hand and skin! How was it that Hermione had so easily gotten past this particular barrier? Honestly, the cleverness of that girl confounded him sometimes.

Twisted thoughts began to fill Hermione's already-altered mind... ones she would most certainly be ashamed of had she been normal.  
She wanted his shirt off, or – something. Something off. She didn't care or think of what.  
How odd was she acting! Her hand up his shirt? Hermione was not normally so flamboyant.  
With an impish smile, she ran her finger down his stomach in a slow movement, took it out of his shirt, and was just about to have another go at his lips - when she felt something twist in her brain.  
It felt as if someone were taking sandpaper and rubbing it inside her head dully, to get rid of the sharp punctuating thoughts that had possessed her moments before.  
She blinked a few times and the grin was lost, replaced by a confused look.  
"... Fred?" She asked slowly, feeling all her senses and wits come back to her quite quickly.  
The brown-eyed and seemingly foolish girl suddenly felt the cold snow around them, and it was very cold indeed. She was suddenly aware of where they were, and wasn't exactly sure of what had happened just minutes ago. Was she really that old? No - only sixteen! And you didn't begin to lose your memory until at least sixty! That, or you would have a memory charm put on you, but still – back to where she was.  
What had just gone on?  
She felt it would look foolish to ask him what had just happened, as obviously, nothing had. The last she knew she and Fred were walking through the snow...  
But why was Fred's shirt all rumpled, and why were her lips tingling?  
  
Must've been the cold.


	15. Results to come

He had the most peculiar sensation of having the ground yanked out from under his feet, so abrupt was Fred's descent back into reality. It was amazing how quickly one look at the expression on Hermione's face could snap him out of that dreamy haze. Red in the face, and quite painfully mortified as he realized exactly what this little fling had rapidly been leading up to, he pulled away from the brown-haired girl, taking half a pace back. He became acutely self-conscious of how haggard his breathing was, how hot his face was, how rumpled he looked. He blinked at her. And then he stared.

Why was she looking at him like that?  
Why had she stopped?  
Had he done something wrong?  
Had he been too... enthusiastic?  
Had he not been enthusiastic enough?  
Did he have something on his face?  
On his shirt?  
Damn it all, it was cold!

He shivvered suddenly, and crossed his arms, hugging his robe close to him as he became aware of how bloody cold it was. Flustered, confused, and downright embarrassed, the red-haired boy cast a quick look about him. It was almost as if he were searching the sparkling snow and the imposing figure of the dark castle for inspiration to break the uncomfortable feeling growing in the pit of his stomach, with some sort of witty comment, maybe. Unfortunately, no such witty comment came to mind, and he was forced to turn his eyes back to Hermione.

"Hermione?" he replied, arching an eyebrow at her. He was tempted to ask her one of the dozen questions that had just attacked him, but he settled for: "Er... It's... ah cold, isn't it? Let's head back to the castle, shall we?"

There was a pause as Hermione's turn to feel embarassed washed over her.  
She looked at him worriedly, imagining all kinds of things he might have been thinking, many of which were similar to Fred's thoughts of /her/.

Why was he looking at her like that?  
What had happened?  
Why was he looking guilty for some reason?  
Had she done something wrong in the kiss she'd given him?

Hermione quickly racked her brains for what had happened in her memory.  
They had been walking through the snow... Fred brought up the fact that Gryffindor won... they flirted around the tree, then he waited for her kiss, and she gave him that brush-kiss, he wasn't happy with it and asked her for a better one... and that was the last thing she remembered!

Hermione didn't know what to expect. She had no idea what had just happened, and realized that she was probably looking stupid.  
After all, for the past few minutes she had been just standing there with her unfocused eyes staring past Fred as she thought. And he had waited.  
She abruptly snapped out of her reverie, knowing it was time to move instead of ponder for who knew how long.  
She tried to speak a couple times, but it was so cold and she was so confused, all that came out was a couple of stutters.  
Her sparkly brown eyes searched his face, and narrowed.  
Yes, he certainly looked guilty. But what about?  
She decided it was time to ask. The curiosity had gotten the better of her, no matter how embarassing it would look to ask.  
"Fred... what happened?" She asked finally, trying to keep her voice steady and confused.

"What happened?" repeated the redhead, arching a brow. "What are you talking about? You mean to tell me you don't remember?"

Fred tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, but his insides were still squirming uncomfortably. He… did not like this game, or whatever it was - not one bit. He met Hermione's narrowed gaze reluctantly, and gave her a prying look of his own, trying to read the brunette. What was she asking… exactly? Did she mean "what happened?" in the literal sense? He certainly hoped not! If she honestly and truly did not know what happened… that was unsettling and weird, to say the very least! He did not want to think about the implications of this, so banished it quickly out of his mind. This seemed highly unlikely. Or, was she asking for explanation? If so, what did she want him to explain? Why he acted the way he did, or why she acted the way -she- did?  
Neh. Females. They were so complicated! He blink once, or twice, before he finally came up with what he thought a suitable reply.

"Nothing happened, Hermione," he said, flatly.

Lying through his teeth. …It was only a white lie, though. Nothing really did happen. They kissed, and got a bit carried away, sure… but nothing actually happened. Besides… if she really didn't remember… wouldn't it be better to lie to her now, and save her from being… utterly mortified.  
Neh. He simply hated this situation, and wanted it behind him as quickly as he could. The Weasley gave a theatrical sort of shiver, and then shot the girl one of his best "nothing-is-wrong-gotta-love-me" smiles, quickly smoothing over all traces of his discomfiture.

"Are you happy, now?" he queried, his voice losing the monotone, and falling into its normal cheerful cadence. "Can we go inside, before all that's left of us is a few icicles for Filch to find?"

"I thought so," Hermione replied, nodding but still looking a little skeptical. She tried to reassure herself. Nothing was wrong here. She trusted Fred…  
"Y-yes, let's go inside…"  
She looked at him. Past the cute loveable face of his, she could see worry. He was uncomfortable. That was apparent.  
But why would he be?  
Was it really because he was cold? No… he had proven that he could enjoy himself in the cold before.  
Had she done something wrong?   
Was he –

Oh no.

Was he really upset that she hadn't given him a decent kiss? Maybe he was…  
Hermione was nervous now. He was trying to hide the fact that he was angry with her for not giving him what he wanted. Even if she didn't feel comfortable with it.  
What should she do now? Should she give him a better kiss? Tell him to get over it?  
She wanted so badly not to displease Fred… not to anger him… but how to do that without going past her boundaries!  
All this mess and confusion…  
It was a pity it was over the wrong issue.

Being the smart one, Hermione decided to approach the issue. But not with words.  
In one movement, thinking it would be easier to plunge right through the ice, Hermione stood up straighter, leaned in, grabbed the front of his robes to pull him closer, and pressed her lips against his…   
Only this time she didn't use her lips alone.


	16. Severe Disagreement

_Damn_ it! And he had been so close to making a clean get-away, too! A kiss was the very last thing Fred Weasley was expecting. In a very "Ron-like" moment, color rushed into his face, tinting his ears a bright shade of red. He barely caught himself from stumbling backwards and falling flat on his bum in the snow. The only reason he didn't yelp when Hermione grabbed his robes was because his mouth was understandably preoccupied. Doing a bit of quick thinking, he considered the options available to him. There were two different ways he could respond to this situation.

First, he could go with his first instinct and run - run as fast as he could.  
Or, second, he could humor Hermione by returning the kiss.

Now... if he was any person with half a brain, he probably would have pulled back from the kiss and apologized, begin explaining himself. But this is Fred we're talking about here - a particularly frustrated and baffled Fred at that! This in mind, it really wasn't that tough a decision to make. A good snog and a happy Hermione was far more desirable than a slap in the face and a hurt and confused Hermione. Though he had a feeling he might regret it later, he decided upon the latter.

Tightening his arm about her waist both to steady himself and draw her closer, Fred reciprocated the kiss with just as much ardor as Hermione gave it. As weird as this night was, he still wasn't quite put off by the kissing. He entertained the vague idea that if she enjoyed _this_ kiss, she might just forgive him for whatever he had done before and stop acting so bloody wonky.

Wonky indeed. Hermione would have… -

Wait a moment.

What was going on!

With a deep breath and a small gasp, Hermione took her tongue out of Fred's mouth, and a shocking wave of reality hit her hard in the face.

This was COMPLETELY out of character for her! To be snogging Fred in the snow, no matter how wonderful it felt, was brash, and vulgar, and NOT her in the SLIGHEST!  
How dare she do this all because she was worried she might not please Fred? How DARE SHE?  
She took one step back, stepped sideways, back to center, and fixed worried eyes on him.

Without thinking, in a moment of confusion and anger, she slapped Fred across the face, and it was then that Hermione Granger had an official wig out.

"What the **hell** am I doing?" She cried hysterically, "What are _you_ doing? What are WE doing? I – I didn't – you never –" Incoherent words kept coming out of her mouth, as another sharp arrow of realism hit her in the head. She had just /sworn/…!  
Her breath was coming in short supply and the entire world felt like it was squeezing in on her. Her eyes were wider than gold galleons.

"Why am I doing something like this? It was not supposed to go this way… how could you let me do that? Don't you have any _common sense_? You should've stopped me! I should've stopped me! Why did we just do that? Do I not have a shred of dignity? You need to exercise more self-control Fred, and should have realized I wasn't acting like myself! This was NOT supposed to happen!"

Her eyes were darting left and right, her voice raised, her tone panic-stricken.  
It was as if she hated herself for what she'd done, couldn't believe that Fred had let her do it, and on top of it all, wanted to dig a hole a crawl right into it from shame.

"What was I thinking?" She continued, an angry tear falling from her eye directly onto the ground. "This is not right! I should be more sensible. We both should be more responsible… DON'T do that EVER AGAIN!" Her shouting at Fred ceased, as with a horrified sigh, she turned around, hurried across the lawn, and disappeared inside the castle doors.

Fred gaped after Hermione, feeling his anger rise with every step she took away from him. While she was having her little snit, he was uncapable of doing anything other than staring, stock-still and shocked speechless, as she burst into hysterics. But now - now, as she was walking away, he had plenty of things he wanted to say! Plenty of words were spinning around on his head, just begging to be let loose, and any one of them would probably make Hermione blush for an entire week straight!

Wild with a medley of anger, confusion, hurt, frustration, and just a pinch of mortification, he had no idea what to do. Part of him wanted to storm after Hermione and give her a piece of his mind, but another part of him, the sane part of him that wasn't insulted and embarrassed and was willing to acknowledge that Hermione was entirely entitled to this flip-out, advised him whole-heartedly against it. So, he let her go. When the castle doors closed behind her, he whirled with a vicious snarl on the nearest inanimate object - the tree. He gave it a vicious kick, and let loose a torrent of those words he'd wanted to use in his reply to Hermione. The only purpose it served was to give him a throbbing toe and a sore throat.

This accomplished, he quit abusing the tree. Still muttering under his breath, the red-haired (and red-faced) boy stormed away. For a moment he considered not going back to the castle at all. He didn't feel like talking to anybody at the moment, and freezing his arse off in the bleachers of the Quidditch Pitch was quite preferable to getting into another fight. But then he reasoned that this wasn't such a good idea. Hyperthermia wasn't that good a way to go. So off he went towards the castle, though took his bloody time about it. He didn't want Hermione to still be in the common room by the time he got there.

This was the weirdest effing night. If he learned nothing else from it, it was that girls, or maybe just Hermione in general, were absolutely bonkers, and that he would never kiss another one of them again. (This was just a hasty declaration made in the heat of anger - he knew full well he'd never hold to that, but it was nice to say, not to mention comforting.)

How dare he. How _dare _he.

Those were the only words that ran past Hermione's eyes over and over, burned into her brain, as she stormed inside the castle.  
She knew Fred was a little... well... _out there_, but this was far beyond what she'd ever imagined.  
He had used her!  
To get what his own selfish, stupid, flamboyant, crazy attitude wanted, he'd allowed her to go through with that.  
Why the thought of what she'd done to try and make him accept her was preposterous! And he'd accepted it!  
What if...  
Her eyes widened.  
What if he only wanted to be with her for wild snogging sessions in the snow?  
What if there were no other girl who would have him so he decided to go with her... the girl with no head on her shoulders when it came to love, the stupid academic. And even if that was an oxymoron, she was too hysterical at the time to think it.  
But what if it was true?  
This began to strike up new fears inside Hermione.  
What if Fred didn't really care about her?  
Hot tears sprung to Hermione's eyes as this new and painful fright was pushed to the back of her mind, and since there were other problems in her head, the tears remained, threatening to fall.  
What had she done...  
She had acted foolishly. And she felt used.

With a quick wipe at her eyes, Hermione walked up to the fat lady.  
"Bean Sprouts" She said quickly, eyes darting everywhere but the lady in the pink dress.  
"Oh, dear, what's the matter? You look positively dreadful! It is very cold out there, you know" The Fat Lady said genially. "A good warm up of tea does the right trick" She added, giving Hermione nothing but unsolicited advice when she'd rather just pass through. "It usually clears out the sinuses and comforts the tummy. So you do that, alright"  
Hermione nodded blankly, and the portrait swung forward to permit her inside.  
Usually she would have gone up to her dormitory to sleep, but she was too upset to even entertain the thought.  
The fire looked nice and inviting, so she sat down on one of the couches and folded her arms, ignoring the looks she received from Harry and Ron, (who were sitting at a table in the corner,) and Lee and George, who were also at a table, though on the other side of the room in darkness.

That GIRL.  
Damn it!  
What was she trying to do? Was she trying to drive him crazy?  
How was he supposed to know what she was thinking?  
DID SHE, or did she NOT, initiate that kiss?  
BOTH times!  
If so, then how in the name of Merlin was he supposed to know when she meant it, and when she didn't? How was HE supposed to know that she didn't really want to kiss him? How was HE supposed to read her mind! Did she think he knew Occlumency?  
In HIS mind, if somebody did something without being asked, it meant that they bloody well wanted to do it!  
These thoughts spun angrily through his head as he prowled through the castle on his way to the common room.  
He had a hot temper, he admitted, but nobody, NOBODY had ever gotten him so riled as he was now. Well, maybe Hermione was clever. Maybe SHE had the gift of superior knowledge of the opposite sex. But she knew how damned oblivious he was to some things! She knew! Why did she have to play off of that?  
Maybe she did it on purpose. Maybe she didn't like him after all, but was too insecure to say so, and set them up for a break-up.  
This did nothing to improve his mood.

Fred had a few words in mind when the Fat Lady asked him for the password, but he doubted any of them would let him in, even if he did say the correct word afterwards. He was still fuming by the time he stormed into the Common Room. He was hoping to find it empty. It was late enough, and everyone was already in such down spirits about the Quidditch Game, he expected most of them to be in bed. But he had no such luck.

There was George. There was Lee. There was Harry, and there was Ron.

Well, that was alright. He could handle them. As long as they didn't say a word, he could handle them. Decided that he would rather sit and brood than go to bed, lay down and brood, he eyed a chair near the fire and started towards it -  
and then stopped dead in his tracks, catching sight of the fifth person in the room.  
Ah. Hermione. Just perfect. Just the girl he wanted to see.

Seething, Fred took a step back, but went no further. Fists clenched and glaring, he battled between tearing off towards the dormitories and sitting down and making HERMIONE leave.

Harry and Ron were looking up at Hermione blankly. It was obvious she was miffed, but about what?

Then they both watched as Fred stormed in, looking thoroughly ticked off, and when he hesitated to sit near Hermione, they knew that something was wrong.

Lee even turned around and watched from his position at the dark table with George.

"... Hermione" Harry asked uneasily, looking from one adolescent to the other.

She, in reply, didn't answer, but turned around and stared at him. "Harry, I really don't feel lik-" But her voice stopped in her throat when she saw Fred and a prickle of anger swept through her.

"You," She said accusingly, getting to her feet and placing her hands on either side of a squashy armchair. "Why are _you_ here? Why aren't you off kissing some other girl who obviously can give you what you want more than I can? It would be better than taking advantage of_ me!_"

"Take _advantage_ of you?" Fred's voice was just a little bit louder than he had intended it to be. He cast an angry look in the direction of the other occupants of the room, as if they were performing some sort of cardinal sin by being present for Hermione's little tiff. Shifting the glare to the girl, he scowled all the harder. She had some nerve. Really. At least this effectively made up his mind. He was certainly not going to leave, and let her have the last word like that.

"I think not! Why don't you just go off and find yourself another boyfriend to _throw_ yourself at?" he suggested, flinging his arm in the direction of Harry and Ron. "And then _flip_ at him for thinking you were doing it because you wanted to!"

The livid boy prowled moodily over to the armchair across from Hermione's. He threw himself down into the comfortable chair, crossed his arms, and stared boorishly ahead of him into the fire. He was hoping to make it perfectly clear that he was not going to leave. Go and kiss another girl indeed! He'd sooner kiss a house-elf, if that was the kind of reaction he was going to get.

"I don't know about you, Hermione," Fred snarled, glancing sidelong at the object of his angry thoughts. "But where I come from, when a girl kisses somebody, she wants to be kissed back."

She snorted. Oh ho, yes sir, she snorted. She snorted because the absurdity of Fred's sentence was almost overbearing.  
He was so… stupid! SO stupid. So stupid she wanted to _scream_.  
"Of course she does!" Hermione said loudly. "In the same way she kissed him in the first place! Not like some flimsy little girl who wants to be kissed like a rabid animal! And you know something else?" Hermione stormed over to stand directly in front of the fire, facing Fred. She folded her arms.  
"You should not make someone feel uncomfortable for not kissing you good enough. You should not do that! Expecting so much of me and when I finally give it to you unwillingly, taking advantage of it! You acted like a vulture! A disgusting, two-faced… _thief_!"

Fred leapt to his feet, shouting indignantly. Now that was out of line! In fact, it was so outrageously out of line, he was seriously beginning to doubt that he and Hermione were talking about the same incident! Actually, now that he thought about it, considering how oddly the girl was acting lately that probably wasn't all that far from the truth. Urgh. As if he wasn't already confused enough already!

"Steady on there, sweetheart" he cried. "Vulture! _Thief_! You've got to be joking! Do you think you were the only one uncomfortable back there? You think I'd force you to do something like that? You've gone batty, haven't you"

His voice was rising in pitch as well as volume. He could not remember feeling so furious or frustrated with a single person before in all his life - not even with Draco Malfoy, when he had wanted to beat the snarky son-of-a-bitch's face in. He combed his fingers agitatedly through his bright red hair, and he cast yet another violent look about the room, before returning it to Hermione.

"What did you _expect_ me to do, eh" he demanded hotly. "Would you've liked me to push you away? Embarrass the both of us that way? I'm sure you would have been thrilled with that! Either way, you would have had my head"

He advanced a step or two on the girl, tone dropping threateningly as he carried on.

"You set me up for this, and you _damn_ well know it" he jabbed a finger accusingly at Hermione's chest, brown eyes dark and sparking. "If you were tired of me, you should have just _told me so_! I would have saved you the trouble of going into such theatrics"

"Tired of you" She shouted back, voice nearly breaking in hysterics. She even did a small wave with her hand, and her body twitched. "_Tired of you_? NOW who's the one who's gone batty? That doesn't even have _anything_ to do with the ISSUE"  
Well, it was true. That wasn't the problem in the slightest. And here he was, bringing it up. He'd made such a mess of the entire affair. No pun intended.  
"You honestly think I would set you up for something like this? You honestly believe that! Really! Tell it to my face, Fred! Just say it. Right now. If you honestly believe this is my fault - SAY IT. _Right now_."  
Half of this was stupid for Hermione, and have of it was a little bit clever.  
It was stupid in the respect that if Fred said he didn't, she would have won the fight. He would know it, she would know it. And he probably wouldn't simply because he was extremely angry at the time. So she was setting herself up for failure. In the other sense, if he said he _did_ believe it was her fault, well... she would be so angry with him that the fight would last for days and days.

Fred was well aware of the trap he was being led into, and, yes, it made him angry enough to simply say it to her face right then and there, regardless of what he really believed. He was shaking then. He stood stock-still, glowering down at Hermione as he considered his response. The fact that she was setting him up for this now only validated his claim that she had set him up before. He should say it. He should tell her he thought she was a rotten sneak. And yet… that would mean walking right into her hands. Either way, Hermione would win.

He was suddenly and inexplicably tired of this conversation.

"I don't know," he snarled. "But you sure aren't giving me a reason to think otherwise right now, and sure isn't my damned fault!"

And that was it for him. He wasn't going to waste another second of his precious time bantering with the girl. She wouldn't listen to a word he said, and he certainly wasn't going to believe a word that came out of her mouth any time soon. He pushed past Hermione and stormed off towards the boy's dormitories.

At that moment, Hermione's blood boiled.  
She had _never _been this angry before. Not in her entire five years at Hogwarts.  
"FINE! Go back there. And - and - STAY THERE! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU **AGAIN**"  
And at the moment - she truly _didn't_ want to see him again.  
She was so hurt, so upset, and so just plain angry with him that she could eat Crookshanks.  
Well, not really, but she stormed up the stairs to the girls dormitories just the same.  
Slamming the door so loudly that Harry and Ron actually winced, she flopped into bed and felt as though she wanted to cry.  
Not out of sadness. Out of pure rage.  
It wasn't strong enough to be hate... no... but a betrayal and furiousness so strong that she didn't know how they would ever get through it. _If_ they ever did.


	17. Update 112105

jumps in+  
HWAH! Hey everyone! Gallie, one of the authors here of this story.  
I wanted to give everyone a big apology for not updating for the past… well… forever.  
Hopefully most of you haven't forgotten The Unexpectable Fred and Hermy. TT  
But Devin and I haven't given up, we've just been wrapped up in school, college, work, and all those other bloody things. ee;  
So here's to Fred and Hermy! raises glass I will get to it, and we will update as SOON AS POSSIBLE!  
Just letting you know we aren't dead, you have my word,

Gallie Randomish


	18. Le Final Update

Wow, it has been three years since I last updated this thing, writing to apologize to our devoted readers, some of which are probably still subscribed to this story, and some of which will be opening this and reading it, totally excited for a new chapter after SO bloody long, and disappointed to only read a note from one of the authors, and no more Fred/Hermy goodness.

The reason for writing this is simple – I was floating around fanfiction reading a bunch of stories from the Fred/Hermione pairing section and was reminded that Devin's and mine contribution was awesome, and took a long time to write and was enjoyable TO write, and that I hate it when people start incredible stories, get people hooked on them, and then drop them and leave their completion-less carcasses on this website to rot. And I realized that's EXACTLY what we've done with this story, and I thought I would be different than all the rest of the people and write an apology to our fans, however few of them there may be.

Devin and I had a lot of very kind, very generous reviews on this story, all of which were appreciated so much, so I wanted to let everyone know that Fred and Hermione is still in our hearts, Dev and I, and were a significant portion of our role-playing lives. Both of us are in college now, and living out our lives with very little time for The Unexpectable Fred and Hermy. One of the main reasons I am writing this is so it doesn't sit here and collect too much dust without at least having a disclaimer on it for people to read after they've experienced many, many chapters of it and are left hanging.

For those of you who are desperate for some kind of closure: we know Fred and Hermione were last left on a very unpleasant note, with that huge fight and confusion regarding what they had done a little bit of time before hand, and that is the last chapter you guys read. I can speak for Devin and myself when I say in our minds, yet unwritten, Fred and Hermione would eventually learn to patch up that fight, and she and I both know that as crazy as they were about the other, the two would stick it through. The two of us never planned for the two of them to break apart or hurt one another, they end up just fine. :)

We absolutely loved writing this story, and we keep in contact with each other through facebook. If for some reason any of you find this update and are alerted that the dust has been brushed off, and if any of you want to find either one of us and be our friends, we would adore talking with you. My facebook link is /nutmegallie, you can find Devin through me.

We love you all! Thank you for reading our story! May the Fred/Hermione shippers never die!


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